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Shadow Dagger Ch. 01

By: austin_erotica



This story begins my epic fantasy series. I am a huge fan of fantasy and I finally decided to write my epic. I tried at first to write a simple story but my brain wouldn't let me. So I have an outline of where I want to go with this series. I did a massive edit as I originally crammed too much information into this first chapter. So bear with me if you don't understand every aspect of this world. Everything will be explained in due time. Please leave me feedback so I know I am on to something. Enjoy!

***

The guard slumped to the ground noiselessly. Jon stepped over his limp body and grabbed the doorknob. He put his ear to the door and held his breath. Silence. He nodded his head and reached down to his right side. His dagger was as silent as death as it slid from its sheath.

The blade was darker than the shadows in the hallway. The blade wasn't just black; it was as though the metal was devoid of light. It was as long as his hand and the grip, as always, felt as though it always belonged in his hand. He set the tip of the blade against the door. A silver light began to shine slowly from the base of the blade as it wound its way up, tracing intricate patterns along the way. The blade flashed brilliantly for a split second and then darkened.

Where a second before the blade was as black as pitch, seven silver runes were now etched along the length of the dark blade. It looked like the blade held room for a few more runes. Jon nodded to himself and removed the blade from the door. The silver runes faded fast.

It looks like he has the room heavily warded; to the 7th tier, no less. He should know my reputation by now. What was the point?

Shaking his head, Jon brought the dagger up over his head and drove it into the middle of the door. There was no need to be subtle; he was Magi Victus and when someone was marked, they knew it was coming. The runes on the dagger flashed brilliantly. 

Instantaneously, silver runes that covered every inch of the door burst into life. The dagger darkened but the door continued to shine brighter as the runes flared.

Jon watched with fascination as his eyes drank in the light. Magecraft was a thing of beauty. It held the power to reveal sights and colors never glimpsed in the dullness of reality. The runes flared even brighter but Jon did not look away, even though his eyes watered and tears streamed down his cheeks. All too soon it would be over. But for these brief few moments Jon's soul sang in harmony with the flashes of power. Cracks appeared suddenly in the midst of each individual rune. The dagger appeared to grow even darker, if that was possible.

The runes on the door faded slowly. Silver bled into gray and finally into black. The runes reversed in on themselves and flowed toward the greater darkness in the middle of the door. The light disappeared from the empty hallway. It was quieter than before, as if darkness held sway over sound as well as light. Sighing, Jon pulled the dagger from the door and sheathed it back on his hip. He turned the doorknob and swung open the door.

He braced for an attack but was disappointed. Across the bedroom the balcony door was open. The night's breeze fluttered the curtains and the robe of the man standing with his back to Jon. He entered the room silently and closed the door.

The man did not turn to face him. He continued to stand with his hands behind his back as he gazed out into the night. He was a tall man, from what Jon could make out in the dim light cast by the moon. He had broad shoulders and shoulder-length hair. He wore only a deep blue robe that continued to flutter around his feet.

"Braxus Marridon, mage of the 7th tier of the Order of Magi, nobleman and warrior, counselor to kings and queens, you have a death-mark placed on your head. I am here to collect," Jon spoke into the stillness of the room.

The mage finally turned. His face was hard and weathered. His hair was dark with white streaks on the sides. His goatee was mostly white with some splashes of black and was kept neatly trimmed. He was a man of impressive stature. Blue eyes glinted coldly from the shadows of his sockets as he stared down his would-be assassin. 

"I trust my guards are still alive?" His voice was gentle and not what you would expect from a man of his presence.

"The Magi Victus have very specific targets, as you should know," Jon replied coldly. The mage continued to stare at him with absolutely no trace of fear. Jon sighed and said, almost apologetically, "I am an assassin, not a butcher. Your men are unconscious, nothing more."

The mage nodded his thanks. Some unknown tension seemed to drain out of him. He even smiled. "That was some impressive work," the mage said, nodding to the door behind Jon.

"I hope you are not thinking about putting up a fight?" Jon replied.

The mage's shoulders sagged and he suddenly seemed a man twice his age. He looked at the door and whispered, "Why would I bother? I have already failed in my duty. The King will-"

He looked up and his eyes widen in surprise. Jon was standing right in front of him, his dagger barely an inch away from his chest. Braxus' gaze had flickered toward the door for only a fraction of a second. "Incredible," the mage said, his voice filled with awe.

Jon shoved his dagger home. Silver runes flared momentarily as the dagger met magical resistance. Protective runes glowed all over the mage's body for the split second it took for Jon's dagger to break through the enchantment and drive through his chest. The mage spit out blood and collapsed over Jon's arm. He removed the dagger and the mage's body slumped to the floor.

Jon squatted down next to the mage's head as blood gurgled out of his mouth.

"I thought you said you weren't going to put up a fight?" Jon whispered.

"I...thought...I...should...at least...try..." the mage gasped. He smiled a red smile.

The corner of Jon's lip twitched up in what could have been a smile. "Graf's 7th Tier Spell of Protection...impressive," he told the dying mage.

A glint of pride shone from the mage's eyes and then quickly faded as the glossy film of death descended down. Jon reached down and checked his heartbeat for an entire minute. Satisfied, he closed the mage's eyes.

"Of course," he whispered, "I have penetrated better spells...but still, it was quite impressive. May you know peace, Braxus Marridon of the 7th Tier."

A strong breeze blew the curtains into the room for a moment and then abated. The curtains floated gently back to the wall. There was no living presence left in the room.

***

Jon stood atop the seawall and closed his eyes to the strong sea breeze. His dark cloak fluttered out behind him and pulled at his neck; he didn't mind. He knew life was full of aches and pains so he took what peace he could when he could.

A lesser man would have never heard the silent approach of a dark-clothed stranger upwind along the seawall. But Jon Laurent was not a lesser man. Still, he gave no sign that he was aware of the stranger's presence. He took one last moment of peace from the sweet tang of salt on the air before he broke the silence.

"It is done," Jon said, without ever turning to face the stranger.

"I know," came the cool reply. 

Jon hid a smile. He knew the man was perturbed that he had been sensed. Always testing me, aren't you? You will find no chinks in the armor I wear. Greater men than you have tried.

Jon finally turned to face the man. He was clothed exactly like Jon; dark tunic and leggings, supple black leather books, and a dark cloak. The hood of the cloak was pulled up to shadow his face. In short, it was the perfect clothing to sneak about under the cover of Mother Night. At least on most other nights, Jon mused as he glanced up at the full moon.

"It was a flawless kill...as always," the man said, bowing to Jon sardonically.

Jon made a slashing gesture with his hand, his mood suddenly dour. "Enough, Sanje" he whispered.

The stranger, Sanje, pulled down his hood to reveal a boyishly handsome face. His light brown hair blew across his face from the strong breeze. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. His face was clean shaven; Jon doubted if one hair had ever sprouted on that dimpled jaw.

As always, Jon was amazed that this boy had risen to the rank of Master Victus. Technically speaking, Sanje commanded Jon. Sanje was wise enough to know if he ever tried to command him, it would be the last thing he ever did.

Sanje's eyes glittered with malice at the commanding tone in Jon's voice, but wisely bit his lip. Instead, he grabbed a heavy drawstring bag from inside his cloak and tossed it Jon's way. Jon snatched it out of the air with a speed that was unnecessary; unnecessary to any casual observer, but a very important reminder to the man tossing the bag.

Jon glanced at Sanje and saw hatred and admiration flash through his features. Sanje nodded at the bag in Jon's hand. "Your cut of the contract price. Do you need some time to count it?" Sanje sneered.

Jon hefted the bag in his hand and judged the weight. "Oh there is no need for that," he said lightly. Sanje's sneer turned into a smile and then slid off his face as Jon's expression hardened instantly. "We both know if there was one copper piece missing, you wouldn't live out the night."

Sanje attempted to keep the sneer on his face but couldn't help the slight tremor of fear that made him lock his jaw. "One day," he rasped, "I am going to see the light leave your eyes as I stick my dagger straight into that black heart. Of all the members of the Magi Victus, you are the only one who does not show the proper respect for the Master of the guild that you so loyally serve. For the life of me, I do not know-"

"I am done with this conversation," Jon cut in. He turned back toward the sea and closed his eyes. He could almost picture how red Sanje's face just turned. He could see how his hands moved toward the dagger on his belt and then stop. Instead, his hands would curl up into fists and the skin would whiten around the knuckles with suppressed rage. The roar of the waves smashing against the rocks masked the near-silent departure of the Master Victus. But Jon didn't need his ears to tell him that.

Jon breathed in the salt-tinged breeze for several silent minutes when he heard the shuffling of numerous feet. He turned his back on the ocean and glanced down the wall at the street ten feet below him. Numerous beggars emerged from shadows in the alleyways and along the sides of the warehouses.

"Master Laurent," one old beggar cried as he approached the silent figure on top of the wall. The beggar held out his hands. "Bless us."

Jon opened the drawstring on the bag. Gold and silver glinted in the light of the moon. He removed a few choice coins and then tightened the string. He dropped the bag to the waiting hands of the beggar below.

The beggar dropped to his knees and looked up. His face was soaked in tears and his shoulders shook. "Bless you, Master Laurent! The blood on this gold is washed off by this act of generosity! The God forgives you!" The beggar got to his feet as the crowd of beggars, whores, children, and the other sad souls on the bottom rung of life walked toward him.

Jon watched the beggar open the bag and begin dispensing the coin. The fact that no one attempted to steal it was a testament to these people of Astuari. Jon knew they wouldn't be back on the streets for a long time.

The beggar felt a strong breeze from behind. Confused, for he was blocked by the ten foot high seawall, he turned around and looked up. "May the God always watch over you," the beggar whispered to the abandoned wall.

***

Daminus watched the rise and fall of his wife's chest as she slept. He knew the sun was rising on the horizon but he didn't have the heart to wake the beautiful woman next him.

The God knows why she married me, but I sure in the nine hells don't. Daminus never stopped thinking this, even after nearly 80 years of marriage.

He reached out and stroked the smooth, pale skin of his soul-mate Evelyn. He closed his eyes and began his morning prayer. Thank you, my Lord, for blessing her with the magical energy that has sustained her beauty and life for these past 100 years. And thank you for blessing me with the same ability so that I may watch over her and protect her.

He opened his eyes and saw that a beam of the rising sun had come through the window to bathe Evelyn in its magical glow. He felt a tear slide down his cheek. It was a good sign.

The sun woke Evelyn as he could not. Her eyes opened and blinked at the early morning light. The sunlight captured the red tint in her light brown hair and made it shine. She focused on Daminus and frowned. She reached up with a pale, delicate arm and wiped the single tear from his cheek. "Why are you crying?" she asked.

He smiled and brought her hand up to his lips. "Because I am constantly reminded that I am the luckiest man upon The God's good green earth," he replied as he kissed her hand. 

She chuckled. "What else can you do with that silver tongue of yours?" The glint in her eye implied her meaning.

He smiled wide and said, "Why don't I show you? We have a few minutes left until we have to be drawn away."

"Well, you should hurry then, shouldn't you?" she said huskily.

He pulled the blanket from her, revealing her nude body. They always slept nude together. There was no better feeling in the world, mundane or magical, that could match the feel of her body pressed against his while he slept. 

Silver light of unfocused magic glowed along his fingertips. He traced his fingers down her chest and around her nipples. She gasped and arched her back at his touch. The magic on his fingertips traced a circle around each nipple. He watched, enraptured, as her nipples hardened before his eyes.

He knew the sensation the unfocused magic caused; she had done the same thing to him several times. It felt like miniature lightning storms contained in each finger. It made the tiny hairs on the person's body stand up as the feeling of intense heat swept through their body. Each area touched by the magic became the focal point of the body's pleasure. So when ten fingers traced lines down her body, he knew she was overwhelmed with lust.

The index finger on his right hand trailed a line of silver from between her large, pale breasts, down past her stomach, and to the top her of her womanhood. He looked up at her and smiled teasingly. He saw intense heat in her eyes as she nodded her head. He brought his finger down further into the slit of her vagina. The power in his fingers flared as he inserted his finger into the wet opening.

She instantly orgasmed as her body shook and her back arched into the air. He didn't let up the magic in his finger until she trembled and collapsed back to the bed. The glow faded from his fingers.

"Come here," she breathed. He joined her on the bed to lie in her arms. She reached down and grabbed his penis and quickly inserted it inside of her. He groaned at the heat he felt in her.

Magic is such a gift, he thought as he began to slowly pump into her. He could never imagine having sex without magic. It increased every sensation felt until your mind could barely stand the pleasure. Her vagina always felt like it was on fire after he played with it. He had been inside of her for 80 years and he didn't think he would ever get enough. He increased his pace and bit down on her neck. Her hands grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper inside of her.

"I love waking up like this," she breathed into his ear. She flicked her tongue out and sucked on the bottom of his ear. He groaned in response. The sun was all the way over the horizon as their lovemaking continued. They were always late in the morning.

"I need to feel you erupt inside of me," she said. "I want to carry that feeling around all day. Hurry, my love!"

He didn't need to be told twice. Her vagina felt as hot as the lakes of fire in the nine hells. He bit down harder on her neck as he felt his orgasm push him over the top. She held on tight to his ass as he emptied himself inside of her. He collapsed on top of her and lay there for several minutes.

"I love you," she said. She wiped the sweat from his forehead and kissed his lips.

"I love you, too," he replied.

ALL MAGI ARE TO REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE EMPORIUM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I REPEAT, ALL MAGI ARE TO REPORT TO THE EMPORIUM IMMEDIATELY.

The words of power rang through both of their heads. Daminus sprung out of bed immediately and grabbed a robe from the dresser. "You don't think somebody else has been killed, do you?"

His wife's face looked grim as she began to dress. "I don't like the sound of this summons. It's too soon after the last assassination. The Magi Victus have never moved this quickly before."

"There is always a first time for everything," he replied sadly. His wife threw him a sharp look as she pulled on her slippers. He shrugged his shoulders in apology.

She sighed. "Yes, you are probably right."

***

Daminus and Evelyn strode the halls of the Emporium with a crowd of other mages. Every mage still in the city of Astuari heard the magical summons and hurried to the Emporium. Sadly, it was becoming a common occurrence as they had been summoned three times in the last month alone. The first two times was because two of their brothers had been assassinated. Daminus feared they had just lost a 3rd brother.

This is getting ridiculous. Never in my 100 years have I had to mourn so many deaths in so short a period of time. He glanced at his wife and saw the worry lines around her eyes. She was thinking the same thing. He continued to follow the crowd as the sound of hundreds of pairs of feet echoed off the marbled tile floor. After several more minutes, they came to the great double doors that opened up on the Hall of Mages.

Daminus and his wife followed everyone inside and the Hall quickly began to fill up. The Hall was a vast amphitheater that was ringed by gigantic statues of the ancient Order of 12, the founding order of the Guild of Magi. Their statues cast long shadows over the crowd as the sunlight filtered in through the glass roof of the dome high above them. 

Several younger members made room for Daminus and his wife in the front row facing directly at the podium in the middle of the floor. He waited in nervous silence as the room continued to fill up. By the time everyone was seated, he saw that half the stone benches circling the room were filled.

So half of our guild must be in the city. There was barely a fourth here when the first murder took place earlier in the month. They must have traveled back. That's odd...its almost as though they knew more deaths were coming...

He was distracted from his dark thoughts as a hush fell over the large, chattering crowd. Daminus looked down and saw the Grand Master Boltus stride into the room. His long white robe fluttered behind him at the speed in which he walked. He vaulted up a small pair of steps to the podium. Daminus was always amazed at how nimble that old man was. He was well past 400 years old, which in a normal life span equated to about 80 years old.

Daminus was even more amazed that his long hair had stayed jet-black, despite the wrinkles that webbed his face.

Boltus held up his hands for silence. Daminus wondered if he was even aware that the crowd had quieted as soon as he strode into the room. He must be worn out he thought sadly.

"My brothers and sisters, I have summoned you here in haste to impart very troubling and very sad news." He opened his lips to speak but closed them again and gripped the podium with both hands. Daminus could see that his knuckles had turned white with the force of his grip. An expected hush had come over the crowd. Daminus felt Evelyn grab his hand and squeeze it tight. He squeezed it back.


Shadow Dagger Ch. 01



Boltus looked up and took a deep breath. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. "We have lost Braxus Marridon to the Magi Victus." A low hum of anger began to build in the amphitheater. Daminus looked around and saw several Magi on their feet, shouting incomprehensible words and shaking their fists. He looked over at Evelyn and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand tight. Braxus was an old friend. Daminus would shed his tears in private, as always.

Boltus raised his hands again for silence. The crowd quieted but some murmurs of anger could still be heard. "My brothers and sisters, we have suffered much in this past month. I don't know what game the Magi Victus are playing but I intend to find out."

"It's time we eradicated them once and for all!" Daminus looked around and saw Morgana on her feet. He always thought she was hot-tempered and she was not disappointing him. What an idiot-. Evelyn grabbed his arm as he stood up to say something and shook her head. He sat back down with a huff.

Boltus bowed his head. "Morgana, that is not up for debate. You should know better. We would never survive a war with-"

"COWARD!" Morgana roared. "I am so tired of hearing that excuse! Whenever a limb becomes infected and can't be healed, you cut it off! No matter how much it weakens you!"

"Silence, Morgana of the 5th Tier! Do you dare question me? Here in the Hall of Magi?" Silver light poured out of Boltus' eyes and mouth. He no longer looked old or worn out. He looked very dangerous and every bit the Grand Master of the Order of Magi. 

Evelyn grasped Daminus' arm in fear. Daminus looked over at Morgana and saw her face pale in the fury of the Grand Master. She sat down in a hurry. A not-so-subtle reminder of your place, Morgana. Heed it well.

The light faded from Boltus' eyes and mouth. He sighed and suddenly looked more worn out than he did when he first arrived. "Forgive me, my brothers and sisters. It has been a stressful week. This is not the time for anger or vengeance. Let us mourn Braxus Marridon as befitting the Master of the 7th Tier. The matter with the Magi Victus will be dealt with shortly, I promise you. Everyone is dismissed to make preparations for the funeral."

The noise in the amphitheater picked up again as everyone rose and began exiting. Daminus shared an ominous look with Evelyn as they rose to leave.

"Daminus, could I have a word with you please?" The Grand Master was addressing him from the podium. Several Magi gave him wondering looks but he ignored them. 

He turned to his wife. "Go get ready for the funeral, my love. I will meet up with you then." She nodded and joined the crowd exiting the room. 

Daminus made his way down to the floor and over to the Grand Master. He bowed low before addressing him. "Grand Master, how may I serve with you?"

"Walk with me," Boltus replied. They strode out the exit behind the crowd and turned down the opposite hallway. Daminus opened his mouth to speak but Boltus held up a finger. What is going on? I don't have a good feeling about this.

They continued walking until they came to a door at the end of the hallway. It was the office of the Grand Master. Boltus opened the door and Daminus followed him inside. Daminus once again opened his mouth to speak but Boltus held up his hand again. His eyes and mouth glowed silver for a moment as he uttered some words in the ancient language. Magical runes glowed all around the room. Daminus stared, open-mouthed with shock. It was a 10th Tier spell to prevent eavesdropping. The fact that the Grand Master cast the spell in his own office was...troubling.

"Please sit, Daminus," the Grand Master gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. Daminus sat down heavily. He couldn't get a grasp on what was happening. He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely realized that this was the first time he had ever seen the office of the Grand Master. It was big but very modest. It was a circular room with walls that were covered in bookshelves. In fact, the only area not covered by bookshelves was the part of the wall right behind the Grand Master's desk. Instead, that part of the wall was covered by a floor-to-ceiling window. The early morning sun reached into the room and fell upon the Grand Master's desk.

"Daminus, I am in need of your assistance." The Grand Master's voice broke through Daminus' thoughts.

Blushing in embarrassment, he replied, "I am at your disposal, Grand Master."

Boltus did not speak right away. He sat in his seat and stared at Daminus for so long that Daminus feared he had died with his eyes open. Finally, the Grand Master blinked and spoke slowly, as if he weighed every word. "I have come to the conclusion that these past three assassinations have not been for the usual reasons of petty jealously and greed. No, I very much fear that someone is playing an entirely different game this time."

"What game is that, Grand Master?" Daminus replied nervously.

"I don't know. That is why I need your help. I need to know what the Magi Victus are up to. The three Magi killed this month were of the 7th Tier and higher, and that includes your friend Braxus Marridon, the Master of the 7th Tier. That is very unusual. Normally, it's our lower-tier members who hire the Magi Victus to knock off the competition. To assassinate Magi of the higher ranks requires Jon Laurent. And he is not cheap." The Grand Master frowned at his desk and was silent for several minutes.

Daminus cut into his thoughts. "What exactly is it that you want me to do?"

"I need you to be my ferret. I want you to investigate these murders and find out who is responsible for them."

"Why me?" Daminus asked.

Boltus took a moment before answering. "Because you are the Master of the 9th Tier and I need a man of your caliber and experience. These assassinations were not cheap. I fear that this implicates a Magi of the upper-tiers. Thus, the protection from eavesdropping," he said as he gestured at the still-glowing runes surrounding the room. "I need someone who knows how to get something done quietly and efficiently. You have some of the best reasoning skills in the Order. 

"And," he continued, giving Daminus a weary look, "I need someone more familiar with...offensive spells. You served the order admirably in the last war and I need that experience."

"I...see," Daminus said quietly. Then he smiled and said, "You will need to prepare yourself for a rather nasty visit from Evelyn."

Boltus chuckled. "I would rather face Jon Laurent." He winced at the sound of the name. "Daminus...if you aren't careful, if the Magi Victus or the mage who hired them learn of your investigation, they will send Jon Laurent after you. And I don't like your odds against that Shadow Dagger of his."

Daminus swallowed and felt sweat trickle down his back. "I will have to be very careful then. I will not disappoint you, Grand Master."

"Good luck, my friend." It was a dismissal. Daminus nodded and got up to leave. The Grand Master's voice stopped him at the door. "Braxus was a good mage...and a good friend. Find the person responsible, Damnius, and I promise you that we will punish him together."

Daminus turned around. He saw a fierce fire burning in the Grand Master's eyes. Too choked up to speak, he nodded his head at Boltus. He turned around and closed the door quietly behind him.

***

Raynolt Teryus, Master of the 10th Tier, second only to the Grand Master in power, stood outside the Grand Master's office. His eyes shone with silver as he studied the intricate runes carved into the door of the office.

A 10th Tier ward against eavesdropping, Boltus? You might as well shoot fireworks in the air to let your enemies know that you are plotting something. How we ever voted a dunce like you into power is beyond me.

The glow of the runes faded and disappeared as Daminus Ventus walked out of the office. Raynolt stepped back into the shadow of the hallway and watched as Daminus walked toward him. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he jumped in surprise when Raynolt stepped out in front of him.

What I wouldn't give to see one of my spells tear through your body Raynolt thought as he put on a friendly smile. Daminus had been very instrumental in passing several regulations that Raynolt fought very hard to have denied; like the power to kill an inferior Magi because you had to breathe the same air as him, for instance.

"Master Teryus, you startled me. Did you need to see the Grand Master? He is free now." Daminus clearly wanted to be on his way. So it gave Raynolt intense satisfaction to block his way.

"What did you and the Grand Master talk about, if you don't mind me asking?"

Daminus gave him a startled look and then looked down to buy some time. When he looked up again his face was under composure. He even looked a little angry. "What is discussed between the Grand Master and a Magi in the privacy of his office is always to be kept private. You know this. Now if will you excuse me..."

Daminus made to move around him, but Raynolt stepped in front of him again. "It's been a very trying month. Please forgive me for any offense I might have given you. We have lost too many brothers in this pointless dance with the Magi Victus and I find myself short-tempered and frustrated." 

Daminus nodded his head. "No apology is needed, Master Teryus. Braxus Marridon was a very good friend of my wife and me. I share your frustration."

"Then stand with me!" Raynolt practically spat at him. A snarl twisted his fine-boned features into something animalistic. "I intend to convene a special council to discuss the current situation. As the Master of the 9th Tier, I expect you to stand with me. The Magi Victus need to be exterminated, once and for all!"

Daminus' eyes widen at the venom in Raynolt's voice. "Master Teryus, you are the head of the highest Tier in the Guild of Magi. Would you throw away so many Magi and cost Astuari her most precious resource? No, I will not see this country weakened and fall back into the hell it was before the Order of 12 saved the world from itself. As a descendant of that Order, you should protect this kingdom with everything you are!"

Raynolt sneered at Daminus with seething hatred. It is because of pathetic cowards like this that I have to resort to... The thought cheered him up and he smiled at the sweet taste of victory that would soon follow. He glanced at Daminus and saw that his abrupt mood swing had startled him. Raynolt walked up close and put his face inches away from Daminus'.

"One day soon, the old man will be gone and I will take his place," he whispered. He smiled at the look of shock on Daminus' face. "I promise many changes will be coming and you better decide soon where your loyalties will lie."

"You are a fool, Raynolt," Daminus replied. Raynolt noted the insult of withholding the honorific of 'Master.' He felt the sweet tingle of power in his fingertips. He longed to unleash it against this man.

No Raynolt, not yet. There is a time and place for everything. But before everything is finished, I swear I will see his lifeless body flung into the ocean to become crab food.

Raynolt stepped aside as Daminus pushed his way past. He watched his retreating back until a turn of the hallway took him from view. Raynolt turned back to look at the office door. And your day is coming too, old man. How I long to test my power against yours. You will be pleasantly surprised. But for now, there is one more piece of business I must take care of...

***

Daminus collapsed into his chair in front of the fireplace. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. What is the connection between the three Magi murdered?

Evelyn sat down in the chair next to his. Even in black mourning robes, she was still a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes, though, were red-rimmed. "I hate these damn funerals," she whispered.

Daminus nodded wearily. "So do I, my love."

They sat in silence for several minutes and watched the fire consume the logs of wood. Daminus began nodding off; his constant thoughts on the murder mystery were dragging him down into sleep. He jerked his head up when his wife spoke.

"By the way, I never asked you what the Grand Master wanted. What did you two talk about?"

"Oh, nothing important," he said, waving his hand. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend the question was of no importance. He could feel his wife glaring at him. He opened one eye and saw his suspicions confirmed. He sighed. "First Raynolt and now my own wife..."

"What are you muttering about?" she asked. He could feel the heat rising in her voice.

"My love, you know private conversations with the Grand Master are supposed to remain private."

"And since when have we kept anything private from each other?"

"Evelyn..." He didn't know how he was going to get out of this one. He searched the fire for answers but knew his heart was already betraying him. "What I discussed with the Grand Master has put my life at risk. Do not ask me to put yours at risk either."

He knew that was the wrong thing to say. He could see her cheeks flush red with anger. "Am I some fragile doll that needs to be locked away and kept safe? Magi are dying! And whoever wants to hurt you will know that we are soul-mates and don't keep anything from each other. My life was put at risk the day I married you. So you might as well tell me."

She was right of course. She had waded gracefully through blood-soaked mud to protect him during the last war. She was his soul-mate, bonded to him in ways most people couldn't even imagine. 

Normally, she could only cast a 5th Tier protection spell. But during battle, when she stood by his side as he unleashed fire and lightning, she would maintain a 10th Tier protection spell around them both. It was the power of the soul-bond which gave her the power to protect him during life-threatening battles. As far as anyone knew, there had never been a soul-bonded Magi couple in the history of the Guild. Soul-bonds were very rare, especially in the limited population of the Magi.

"This isn't a battlefield," he whispered. "I am dealing with the Magi Victus. They are the very shadows. There is no defense against them."

His wife lifted her chin up in defiance of this fact. "I would like to see the Magi Victus who could penetrate my 10th Tier protection spell."

He looked his wife in the eye. "They say Jon Laurent can."

His wife's face wilted a little but the defiance remained. "Regardless, I will always protect you, no matter what battlefield we find ourselves in. Nobody will ever harm you while I draw breath."

Tears stung the corner of his eyes. Her words were carried over the soul-bond and pierced his heart. "Damn you," he whispered.

She smiled in victory. "Well, now that we have taken care of that, what did the Grand Master have to say to you?"

"I am to investigate the murders. The Grand Master believes it was an upper-tier mage who hired the Magi Victus. He has a bad feeling about these murders. They don't appear to be for the usual reasons."

His wife sat down in her chair and nodded her head wearily. "Yes, I have had the same thoughts. These murders have to be connected in some way."

Daminus stood up, suddenly full of energy. He began pacing in front of his wife. "I have been thinking all night about what connects these murders. I am trying to remember everything I know about the other 2 mages who were killed."

Evelyn frowned in thought. "Let's see...Altus Moore was of the 8th Tier. I believe he was around 200 years old. He had no area of expertise that I can recall...I know he was a King's advisor for a time."

Daminus nodded. "That is about the extent of my knowledge, too. What about the other mage? Christiana Bowman?

"I remember her a little better," Evelyn replied. "I believe she was close to 200 years old as well. She had just reached the 7th Tier not too many years ago. She was exceptionally bright. Her main area of study was research and magical experimentation. I remember helping her with one experiment. She tried mixing an offensive spell with a protection spell. I had to put the flames out before she burned to a crisp." She smiled fondly.

"And that leaves Braxus," Daminus said sadly. "I can't believe I will never enjoy another cup of tea with him. He used to seat right here in front of the fireplace and tell the most fascinating tales. He had done so much with his life. He was a renowned warrior and ambassador. Kings and Queens would hang on his every word."

"I liked the stories of his childhood with the Prince, especially," Evelyn cut in. "The royal line is so far removed from us that it's nice to know that the King is human and not just a living legend."

Daminus nodded in agreement. He sat back in his chair and rested his chin on his hands. He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear his wife calling him at first. "Hmm?"

"I said, wasn't Braxus close to 200 years old?"

Daminus looked at his wife in surprise. "Yes he was. That makes all 3 of the Magi...but what does that mean? It can't just be coincidence."

"No, I think that's our connection," Evelyn said. Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Now we just have to figure out what that connection means."

"Well," Daminus replied slowly, "if they were the same age, then that means they grew up together."

"That's right!" his wife said, standing up out of her chair. "Most Magi are left to be raised in the Emporium. You and I were raised by our parents but that's very rare. After all, Magi parents are too busy to raise a child. That means there is a good chance that all 3 of the Magi murdered this past month grew up together. They were probably even friends"

Daminus stood up and smiled at his wife. She smiled back. "I need to go to the archives at the Emporium," he told her. "I need to research the files we have on the 3 Magi. I need you to go to the Grand Master and tell him everything we know. Maybe he will know what the connection means."

They wasted no time. They grabbed their cloaks from the hook by the door and were off toward the Emporium.

***

Jon stood on top of a local meat shop, annoyed. He had been summoned again to fulfill a contract. This would make 4 contracts in the past month. Jon's skills were rarely needed but once or twice a year. There was something going on and he intended to find out.

"Why was I summoned so soon?" Jon asked the night. A shadow shifted by the chimney and approached him.

"Your place is not to ask. Or have you forgotten that you are addressing your superior?"

"Do not wave empty titles in front of my face Sanje. You are only breathing because I don't want to waste the effort of cleaning your blood off of my dagger. Why have I been hired again so soon?"

If Sanje was annoyed, he did not show it. Instead he spoke in a pleasant voice. "It is not my place to ask. Somebody with a lot of gold wants Magi dead. Why more do we need to know?"

Jon spat at the shadow's feet. "I don't know how you clawed your way to the top of the Guild, but you are no more fit for that position than a turtle is fit to fly." Jon saw the shadow shift and then stand still once more. Sanje was getting better at controlling his anger. "We are the balance of power between the Magi and the rest of humanity. We do not tip the scales one way or the other."

Sanje laughed. Jon almost reached for his dagger. Almost. "Do you really believe that this Guild still carries on that mission? We are assassins, my friend. We are trained in particular to hunt one type of person. There is no balance of power. Why should we care about the balance in a world that shuns us? That would happily see our heads on top of pikes? And for what? For being born? We can't help that we are half-breeds. You see, the world created the Magi Victus. They left us no other role to play."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 01



Jon turned toward the shadow. "There is a reason why we are reviled. The sooner you accept that reason the sooner you will appreciate what you have."

"I can't help but be what I was born," was the cool reply. "The sooner you stop struggling against that the sooner you will see the truth. And the truth is we don't care why we were hired. The feel of gold in my hand is truth enough for me."

Jon sighed. The world was changing again and he was always the fool who ran headlong into that storm. The world had abandoned him long ago. He had known for quite some time that he no longer fought for the same cause he used to. He just never wanted to admit it. It was time to abandon his fight for it. "What is the job?"

He could sense Sanje's smile. "The Magi's name is Ashford Caulston."

***

Sanje watched as Jon disappeared off the rooftop. He fought back the urge to fling his dagger at Jon's retreating back. He didn't of course. It would have been a futile and suicidal attempt. Still, it pleased him to picture the scene in his mind. Jon would just about to disappear from view when a powerful Shadow Dagger would tear through his spine. He would whirl around as he collapsed. His eyes would widen in shock as he spotted Sanje's smiling face...

"That man is too powerful," a voice whispered from behind him. Faster than a man could see, Sanje whirled around, his dagger out of its sheath and ready in his hand. He cursed aloud for getting lost in his thoughts or he would have felt the slight vibration of the blade that would tell him that a Magi is nearby.

Raynolt Teryus smirked as Sanje let out a steady stream of curses. Sanje sheathed his dagger, glad for the darkness of night that hid his blush of shame. Raynolt walked up to the edge of the rooftop and joined Sanje as they watched the retreating figure of Jon Laurent.

"As I was saying, that man is too powerful," Raynolt continued. "He is the most unpredictable player in this charade of ours. I think it's time for something to be done about it."

Sanje gritted his teeth. "Do you think I would stomach his constant insolence if I knew of a way to kill him?"

Raynolt didn't take offense to the underlying contempt in Sanje's voice. He put his hand to his chin in silent contemplation.

Damn that Jon Laurent! He always twists me up to where I can't concentrate properly. I need to have my full wits about me when dealing with this snake. What is he up to?

"Do you know how powerful his Shadow Dagger is?" Raynolt finally asked. He glanced over and frowned at the growl on Sanje's face. "I am not asking you about your damn secret of how those Shadow Daggers are made," he said coldy. "I want to know how powerful his dagger is."

Sanje couldn't help smiling slightly. Oh how that secret is a thorn in the side of the Magi. I love keeping those arrogant bastards in the dark. "Honestly, nobody knows. I know from experience that his dagger blocks 9th Tier spells. As for the 10th Tier..." Sanje shrugged his shoulders.

Raynolt hissed. "Who is that man?"

"I told you many times, he has been a member of Magi Victus for as long as our records go back. Unfortunately, whenever a new Master takes over the Guild, as I did 2 years ago, our records usually don't survive the purge." That wasn't the complete truth; no matter what deal Sanje had worked out with the Magi, he would never give them more information about the Magi Victus than was needed.

"Regardless," Raynolt continued, "I have arranged a little surprise for him at the house of Ashford Caulston. Once he completes his task, he will find 3 members of my Tier waiting in ambush."

Sanje was shocked. "3 members of the 10th Tier...but how?"

"Things are moving very quickly, my friend," Raynolt said, turning away from the edge of the roof. "The last murder has everyone divided. I have recruited more Magi to my cause. Many of them are ready to spill some blood. The time to move has finally arrived. Everything in Astuari is about to change. The Magi and the Magi Victus will have the respect we deserve. I have a very important matter to settle. Be prepared; this will be a bloody night to remember for all time."

***

Daminus knocked on the Archivist's door and waited. It was late at night and the man was probably asleep. But he would continue to pound on the door as long as it took until he answered it. Luckily, he was still awake and answered the door quickly.

"Daminus? What brings you to my door so late at night?" Edmund Defoure, the Emporium's long-tenured Archivist, looked down from his impressive height and surveyed Daminus with polite interest.

"I am so sorry to bother you this late at night, Master Defoure. I have come on an urgent business matter from the Grand Master."

"Please come in," Edmund motioned Daminus inside the room. "Would you care for some tea? I have just made a fresh pot."

"Yes, please," Daminus replied, figuring the Archivist would be easier to deal with if he wasn't hurried. He walked quickly across the impressive rugs that covered the floor and took a seat in front of Master Defoure's desk. 

He looked around while Master Defoure walked out of the room to get the tea. The room was very cozy. There was a fire going in the fireplace. The walls were covered with rich tapestries of various important moments in the history of Astuari. Behind the desk were shelves of neatly stacked parchment. Daminus guessed that those would be the files of the Magi that he was looking for.

Master Defoure came back into the room carrying a tray. There was a steaming tea pot, two cups, and several tasty looking pastries. Daminus' stomach rumbled, despite the urgency he had felt since the morning's meeting with the Grand Master. He hadn't eaten all day.

Once the tea was handed out and Daminus wolfed down the first pastry, Master Defoure opened the conversation. "So tell me, Daminus, what urgent matter do you need assistance with?" He blew carefully on his tea and took a sip.

"I need to look at the files you have for the recently murdered Magi."

Master Defoure grimaced over his tea. "That is a terrible business, those murders. Raynolt has been hovering around lately, bothering me about joining his cause to eliminate the Magi Victus."

Daminus snorted. "He actually told me that he will be the next Grand Master. I would love to see the day we vote him in."

Master Defoure gave him a serious look. "Never underestimate Raynolt Teryus. He has made his reputation on people underestimating him. Besides, after this last murder, I couldn't quite argue with him. But not that I agree with him," he added hastily, spotting the look on Daminus' face. "I am sure you aren't here to discuss Raynolt or our issues with the Magi Victus. Let's get back to the matter at hand."

"I was wondering if I could take a look at anything you have on the murdered Magi."

"Do you believe there is a connection between the 3?" Master Defoure asked.

He is very perceptive. I have to be careful... "No, not really. I am just trying to piece together what the Magi Victus are doing. I am sure it will probably turn it to be some petty nobleman who arranged the murders."

"Hmmm, I doubt it. It had to be someone who knew them. After all, they were inseparable as children."

"What do you mean?" Daminus asked quickly. He could feel his pulse racing.

"I was in charge of the Youth Hall back when they were growing up. Braxus, Christiana, and Altus were all of the same age, did you know? I remember them clearly. They were a good bunch of children. I never really had any problem with them. It was sad to watch them drift apart as they got older. I am probably the only Magi old enough to remember that they were a close group once."

Daminus' brain was kicking into overdrive as he sorted through all the new information. "Why were they so memorable?"

Master Defoure frowned. "Why, because they were all friends with Prince Reynar, who went on to become the greatest King that Astuari has even known."

Daminus felt a weight drop down his stomach. How could I have been so stupid? After all the stories Braxus used to tell, I should have known! This plot somehow ties directly with the King!

Daminus sank bank into his chair. Whatever the plot involves, it may already be too late. "And now they are all dead, except the King."

Master Defoure nodded his head sadly. "I couldn't quite believe it when I heard Braxus was murdered. The first two I could dismiss as coincidence and probabilities; but now Braxus? I was going to visit the Grand Master tomorrow about these murders. I shudder to think how Ashford will react when he hears the news."

Daminus blinked. "What was that?"

Master Defoure's eyebrows rose up his ebony face in confusion. "Which part?"

"You said something about Ashford? Do you mean Ashford Caulston?"

"Yes, yes, of course. He was the last member of that little gang of theirs. He is out of the country right now. I don't know if he has heard any word about what happened. I think he was sent as an ambassador to the desert tribes. Regardless, word should be sent to him soon."

Daminus stared in horror at the ancient Archivist. "Ashford is of the 9th Tier. He reported to me yesterday morning. He is back in Astuari." He didn't wait for another word. He bolted out of his chair so fast that Master Defoure screamed in shock and spilt his hot tea over his chest.

"Wait, Daminus! What has-" Daminus didn't hear what else he had to say as he hurried down the corridor. I have to get to Ashford's home before it's too late!

***

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably in the chair across from the Grand Master. Poor Boltus was not looking very good. He had heavy bags under his eyes and he looked ready to greet The God here soon if he didn't get some sleep.

"I must be getting old, to not have seen the connection," he groaned into his hands. "I remember hearing about the great potential of a particular group of children. To not have made the connection..."

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably again. She was not use to seeing the Grand Master look so...human. She knew he was getting up there in age but to see him so overburdened with the responsibility of his office made her reach out her hand and grab his. She squeezed it reassuringly. "It is no fault for a leader to delegate some of the heavy thinking to his trusted companions. You can't run your office and think of every little plot going on in these halls. You would go mad."

Boltus looked up and smiled a weakly. "You are a great Magi, Evelyn. Thank you."

Evelyn felt herself blush and coughed to cover it up. "Yes, well...that is kind of you to say. I have to remind you, however, that I am only a Magi of the 5th Tier."

Boltus waved his hand. "Nonsense. Too many Magi nowadays are putting too much stock in Tiers. I have personally seen you cast a 10th Tier protection spell. I have seen 8th Tier Magi who couldn't cast a 5th Tier protection spell to save their lives. I would put my life in your hands and that is the best compliment I can give any Magi."

Evelyn couldn't cough long enough to hide the blush she felt now. "Thank you so much for those kind words, Grand Master. But back to our problem...do you know what that connection means?"

"I have been thinking-" Boltus began, but then stood up so fast that it made Evelyn dizzy. Another Magi had just barged into the room, slamming the door into the wall in his haste to see the Grand Master.

"Edmund, what is it?" he asked the Magi who stood huffing and puffing in the doorway. Evelyn turned to examine the Archivist. The poor old man was red in the face and was trying hard to regain his breath. Whatever he had to say was very important; what else would cause an old man to come running in the middle of the night?

"Grand Master...Daminus...he...he."

Evelyn was up and out of her chair. She grabbed Master Defoure by the arm to help steady him. "What is it? What has happened to Daminus?"

"I think he ran off to save Ashford Caulston! I was too slow to see the connection! I am sorry Grand Master."

"Of course," the Grand Master whispered.

Evelyn looked to the Archivist and the Grand Master in annoyance. "Will anyone care to explain to me what in the nine hells is going on?"

The Grand Master turned to look at her. His eyes were glowing silver. All traces of exhaustion had left his face. His very presence was ancient power. "Your husband's life is in danger," he said.

Evelyn felt her body go cold. Hold on Daminus! I am coming for you!

Evelyn whirled around to leave and barely had time to throw her hands up over her eyes before a huge flash of fire filled the room. When her sight returned she stared in horror at the smoking ruin that once was Edmund Defoure. A powerful blast had blown him halfway across the room. His back was a charred ruin. Curls of flame continued lick his back. The smell of burnt flesh filled Evelyn's nostrils.

"Raynolt," the Grand Master hissed. Evelyn tore her gaze away from the body and received another shock. Raynolt Teryus stood in the ruin of the doorway. His eyes glowed silver and intricate runes covered his body. His hand was still extended in the throwing motion of the fireball. He was smiling.

"Good evening, Grand Master," he whispered. He glanced at Evelyn. "My dear Evelyn, I must say I was surprised to find you and Master Defoure here at this hour. I am terribly sorry, but you are in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Curse you to the nine hells, you traitor," she replied with a snarl.

The Grand Master stepped in front of Evelyn. "Stay behind me," he ordered.

"At last..." Raynolt breathed. His eyes were shining with eagerness. "I only wish the entire Guild was here to witness my destruction of you."

Raynolt raised his hand and the battle commenced.

***

Jon Laurent stood on top of a roof and examined the small house across the street. There was a fire burning in the living room. The mage was home, he could feel it. He crouched down and watched intently as a man hurried down the street. Jon could feel his dagger tingle from sheath on his belt. 

A mage huh? And a pretty powerful one if I could feel the resonance from up here. I don't know what game I am involved in, but I can feel the knife at my back.

Jon watched as the man pounded on the front door. A few seconds passed and the door opened. The man hurried inside as the door swung shut behind him. Jon grimaced. It looked like tonight would be a unlucky night for him.

I know Ashford didn't have the time to call for reinforcements. The notice on his head just went out. I hate coincidences. That other mage will put up a fight. The contract only calls for Ashford's head.

Jon spent several minutes contemplating his next move. He slid the Shadow Dagger from its sheath. He could feel the blade vibrating slightly. There were two powerful mages not far from him. It has been a while since I had a challenge...

Smiling, Jon slipped off the roof and made his way toward the house.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 02



Thanks to everyone who commented and emailed me on the first chapter. It gave me the motivation to continue the story. This story for you guys!

***

Daminus hurried down the street, casting quick glances to the shadows of the alleyways. Don't be stupid, you wouldn't be able to spot him anyways. Besides, the Magi Victus only have one victim tonight.

The thought should have comforted him but it did not. His nerves had been on knife point since the early morning announcement. Now he was strolling down a darkened street towards a home he knew was about to be visited by Jon Laurent.

The thought of the name made him pick up his pace. His dark blue robes swished around his ankles as he looked at both sides of the street for Ashford Caulston's house. Now where is that blasted house...

The Magi quarter of the city looked especially foreboding at night. Tall architectural structures of wonder and magic loomed out at him at every corner. Here in the capital city of Astuari, the citizens of particular guilds tended to live in certain areas. There was no law that prevented any particular person from living anywhere they wanted but the city had been divided among different guilds so long ago that nobody stopped to even think about it. This area of Astuari was where Magi made their home and that was that. Sure, a merchant might live here or there but they most likely sold items that catered to Magi only.

Under normal circumstances, Daminus loved to walk leisurely through the Magi quarter and admire the stark beauty of the homes and landscape. Magi commissioned engineers to build their houses but each individual Magi put their own particular stamp on their house; each and every house was different and had its own identity.

But tonight Daminus paid no attention to his surroundings. He walked with a purpose. His gaze would wonder in all directions but he was not admiring the houses. He was watching for Jon Laurent.

He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the home of Ashford Caulston. It was on the corner of two intersecting streets. Blue mage fire lit the lamps surrounding the house. It was a good sign; mage fire was only lit when the Magi who cast it was home. He walked quickly up the path that led to the front door. Towering columns of impressive architecture lined the path and cast deep shadows into the corners. Abandoning all dignity, he grabbed the hem of his robe and began to run to the front door.

He pounded on the door as soon as he reached it. "Ashford! It's Daminus! Open up!" He waited for a few seconds more before he heard locks clicking from the other side of the door. The door swung open, revealing a tall figure in deep red robes. Ashford Caulston peered at Daminus in surprise before it transformed into a weary frown.

"Daminus...you shouldn't have come," he whispered. Despite the warning, he stepped back and let Daminus walk through. Daminus almost collapsed in relief when the door shut behind him. I am safe for the moment. But that won't last for long.

He turned and examined the Magi who was under his command. The tall Magi stood with his shoulders slightly hunched. His long black hair was not in its usual ponytail. Instead, it hung lank around his face and shoulders. Despite his deeply tanned skin, his face was pale; heavy bags hung under his eyes and a few weeks-old growth of beard covered his face. His diplomatic mission to the barbaric desert tribes of Raves had worn him out, physically and mentally. 

Now he has come home to find out all his friends are dead and he is next on the list.

"You know why I am here," Daminus said. It was not a question.

Ashford nodded his head. "Yes. I received word yesterday of the murders. I knew I was next."

Anger flooded Daminus' veins. He clenched his hands to stem the flow. "You knew and you said nothing?"

Ashford did not flinch at his tone. The Ashford that Daminus knew would flare up at any criticism and would fight you tooth and nail. This Ashford standing before him looked tired instead. "Yes," he said simply.

"Damn you Ashford, I want some answers! What the hell is going on? Why were your friends murdered? Does this have to do with the King? Why didn't you leave when you found out about the murders? Tell me!"

Ashford's eyebrows rose up in surprise after each question. "How did you...I mean who told you? About the King?"

"Nobody told me anything!" Daminus roared. The fear and anxiety that he felt this whole day was pouring out of him. "A member of my own Tier has been keeping secrets from me so I was forced to put together a very fragile puzzle. And I still don't have all the pieces. That ends now," he finished, giving Ashford his best glare.

Ashford walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. "We don't have long," he said quietly, not turning from the window. His breath fogged up the glass. "Jon Laurent is on his way. I just received the note when you arrived." He turned back toward Daminus and gestured at a nearby table. A note of paper lay upon it.

Daminus walked over and picked it up. It contained only two words: Jon Laurent.

"I found it pinned to my door with a black dagger," Ashford said from behind him. "It wasn't a Shadow Dagger, of course, but its meaning was clear. It was unnecessary, too. The people who hired him knew that as soon as I heard about the murders I should expect Jon Laurent at my back."

Daminus slammed the note down on the table and turned around to face Ashford. "I want those answers."

Ashford nodded. "Follow me. I think we are going to need some wine." He led Daminus out of the entrance area and down a hallway. Daminus thought the absence of anyone else in the house was odd.

"You have no guards?" he asked him.

Ashford responded as he led him into the kitchen. "I was expecting to be with the Raves for a few more years. I let my staff go when I left." He walked to the pantry in the huge stone kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. Daminus settled down at a long stone table. Pots and pans hung above his head. The stone fireplace, which was the length of the entire room, was dark and dusty. This kitchen was meant for a full staff to be working.

Ashford joined him at the table and handed him a glass of wine. He raised his glass. "Here is to the last glass of wine I will ever get to enjoy." He sipped from the glass, swished the wine around in his mouth, and swallowed slowly. He closed his eyes in pleasure. Daminus looked at him sadly and drank his whole glass at once. 

We are both about to die and here we are enjoying a glass of wine. Death is a funny thing...

***

Sophina Crews adjusted her helmet and stretched out her back. Guard duty in this part of the Emporium was the most boring duty that could be assigned. 

Why did I to drink so much last night? I should haven't let that bastard Warren bait me into a drinking contest. 

Sophina cursed under her breath for her stupidity. She had been late getting up that morning and, consequently, had been assigned this thoroughly uninteresting hallway of the Emporium. The hallway led to some unused store rooms that supposedly contained some items of value.

The only other interesting thing of note was the fact that the hallway intersected with the hallway that led to the Grand Master's office. It was this simple fact that allowed Sophina to spot Evelyn Ventus hurrying down the intersection of the hallways. It was very unusual for any Magi to be walking down this area so late at night, let alone someone who looked visibly shaken. But Evelyn Ventus wasn't just some random Magi in Sophina Crew's book. Sophina was hopelessly in love with her.

All Magi were allowed to hire the Emporium guards for various reasons, most commonly for home defense. Evelyn and her husband Daminus would frequently hire her to guard their house when they were away. While she didn't know Evelyn very well, they had talked on several occasions and could be considered to be friends. If Magi even pay attention to people like me, Sophina would frequently think.

But Sophina knew of Evelyn Ventus long before she met her. She grew up with the stories of the brave Magi who strode the battlefield with no weapons to protect the man she loved. She was a living legend in Sophina's mind. Sometimes, when she was lucky enough to be on duty for the meetings in the Hall of Mages, she would stand guard by the door and stare longingly at Evelyn. She would drink in every detail of that legendary woman. She studied how her hair curled at the shoulders, how her lips moved when she spoke, how her eyes would shine with joy and love when she looked at her husband.

Sophina had never been so attracted to anyone in her whole life. Just looking at Evelyn would fill her with an intense heat. Hot juices would almost soak through her heavy wool pants in the area between her legs. She knew that the God had forbidden these kinds of feelings, but she couldn't help it.

So it was of great interest to her to see Evelyn Ventus looking so scared as she hurried down the hallway. Sophina walked down the hallway to the intersection and glanced down the darkened hallway. She saw the door of the Grand Master's office close shut. 

What business does she have with the Grand Master so late at night? And what has her looking so spooked?

Sophina itched to walk down there and find out. Maybe she could open the door and ask if they wanted anything to drink...no that was stupid. She was already in trouble for her tardiness this morning. She did not want to be written up and docked a day's pay for leaving her post. She walked slowly back to her boring hallway.

She stood there, feeling the ache in her back from wearing so much armor all day long, when she spotted Raynolt Teryus crossing the intersection. Raynolt looked very focused as he stared straight ahead. It was yet another late night visitor to the Grand Master's office. The itch to find out what was happening was almost overwhelming. No, its just Magi business. It's none of my concern. But I hope Evelyn is all right...

***

Raynolt Teryus, Master of the 10th Tier, stood in the ruin doorframe to the Grand Master's office. His hand was held out in front of him and silver light poured from his eyes. He smiled at Boltus and Evelyn and began speaking in the ancient language of magic. 

Silver light poured out of his mouth as he chanted, focusing the spell in his mind. His fingers moved faster than Evelyn could follow as he shaped the magic.

"Evelyn, stay behind me! Cast whatever protection spell you can!" Boltus roared. His eyes bleed silver light as well. He began chanting, his fingers moving as fast as Raynolt's. 

Evelyn stared in awe at the two Magi. She understood the words they chanted but could not grasp their meaning. They were casting very advanced spells. 

Evelyn quickly opened herself up to the flow of magical energy. She chanted a short spell, shaped it with her fingers, and watched as the protection spell settled over here. It was just a 5th Tier spell. Raynolt would laughingly penetrate it with a wave of his hand.

Boltus finished his incantation and threw his hands in the air. Silver runes of protection settled over Evelyn and him. Almost at the same moment, Raynolt finished his spell and flung his hand toward them both. A flash of light flared in his palm and shot out a lightning bolt. The bolt flew across the room in the blink of an eye and smashed into Boltus. The silver runes of protection flared along his body as the lightning bolt dissipated.

Evelyn quickly studied the runes covering Boltus. They were very intricate. It was hard for her to read them, as it was a 10th Tier spell, but she saw that the runes were cracking in places. Spaces had appeared in the runes that didn't belong there. Raynolt's bolt of lightning had severely comprised the integrity of Boltus' protection.

"Not bad old man, you are still very quick," Raynolt sneered. He walked calmly toward them. "But I see the damage just one of my lightning bolts has done. You can see it too, Boltus. So unless our dear Evelyn unleashes magic we have never seen from her before, I think we both know where this fight is going."

You talk too much you son of a bitch! Evelyn focused a fireball in her mind and chanted the short incantation. She weaved the spell with her fingers and flung out her hand. A fireball materialized from the rune on her palm that her fingers shaped and flew toward Raynolt. From start to finish it had only taken her 3 seconds. It was only a 4th Tier fireball, as lower Tier spells were faster to cast, but it was still powerful enough to kill an unprepared Magi.

But 3 seconds was an eternity to a 10th Tier Magi like Raynolt. He snorted contemptuously as Evelyn moved into action. He called up a 5th Tier protection spell faster than most Magi could think, and the fireball fizzled as it struck his shield.

God help us! Evelyn thought hopelessly.

***

Ashford set down his glass of wine and stared into its depths. "This whole thing started with Reynar...that bastard." He smiled, taking the sting from the words.

"Keep it brief, my friend. I fear Jon Laurent will be here in moments." Daminus didn't like this feelig of impending doom. He almost wished Jon Laurent would hurry up. Almost.

Ashford closed his eyes and nodded. "It was rare, to have so many Magi born only months apart. And what made it even rarer was the fact that the heir to the kingdom of Astuari was born at the same time. He was given to the Emporium to be raised and trained, as is custom. All 5 of us were raised there, in fact. So they decided to teach us as a group."

Here he paused and took another sip of wine. "I'm sorry, you said to be brief. We all loved Reynar; it was impossible not to. We knew, even as kids, that he was destined for greatness. His skill in magic was unmatched. When he finished his training and became the Crown Prince, we knew we would do anything to protect him. He was going to be a King unlike any other. And we knew a King that would change history would need constant protection."

Daminus felt his anger slip away as he was drawn into Ashford' tale. He had never met the King personally. He had seen him from afar once...maybe, he couldn't be sure.

Ashford continued. "It was Christiana who found the perfect way we could protect him. She loved to experiment...I can still remember the look on her face when she perfected the spell." He stopped and coughed into his hand. His eyes glistened in the corners. "It was forbidden, though. To protect the King, the man we loved with all our hearts, we would have to break Emporium law."

He looked at Daminus, almost apologetically. Daminus waved his hand. "We will worry about the legalities if we survive the night. Please hurry."

"Do you know how Magi are able to permanently enchant an item?" he asked Daminus.

Daminus frowned. "Yes...when our blacksmiths reach the end of their lives, they are given permission to bind their essence to the object that they consider to be the masterpiece of their profession. It's usually a sword or a piece of armor, something inanimate. And it prevents the soul from moving on, which is why it is entirely illegal to attempt without permission. What does this have to do with the King?"

Ashford had a sly look on his face. "Christiana discovered a way to permanently enchant an item with your living essence. That is, it's not your death that enchants it; it is your life. As long as you live, the item will stay enchanted."

Daminus was stunned. "How...what..."

Ashford smiled. "In our case, it was not an item we wished to enchant. It was a living person."

***

The contemptuous look Raynolt bore from Evelyn's failed fireball dropped from his face as a lightning bolt blasted through his shield and ripped through his shoulder. The force of the blow flung him across the room.

Evelyn stared at Boltus in shock. The Grand Master had called up a 6th Tier lightning bolt faster than Raynolt probably thought possible. Raynolt had barely called up the 5th Tier protection spell to counter Evelyn's fireball before the Grand Master quickly took the opening Evelyn thought she saw originally. 

"Grand Master, that was-" Evelyn began but was cut off as a scream echoed off the walls.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU DARE STRIKE ME?" Raynolt was standing far across the room, his left shoulder hanging limp by his side. Smoke rose from a hole that went straight through his shoulder. But his eyes bled silver. Gigantic runes flared in front of him as he somehow shaped the spell with one hand. "NOW DIE YOU USELESS OLD FOOL!"

He clenched his hands and the runes transformed into a wall of fire that roared toward them. The flames covered the room from wall to wall. Oh good God, protect us! 

Evelyn threw her arms across her eyes as intense flames swept over them. She peered through her arms and saw Boltus standing in front of her. His fingers were moving and he chanted continuously. The runes around both of them flared and darkened repeatedly. The wall of fire continued to pour over them, wave after wave threatening to sweep them away.

After what seemed like hours, the waves of flame stopped. Smoke stung Evelyn's eyes and poured down her throat. She dropped to her knees and puked. 

The smoke around them suddenly cleared as Boltus waved his hand. The office was a blackened ruin. The furniture had turned to ash. The stone walls looked like melted wax. And Raynolt Teryus stood in front of them, smiling.

"It was an impressive spell, Raynolt," Boltus coughed. His face was blackened and his robe bore many burns and holes. He slumped while standing, but power still emanated from him in waves. "But I believe you stretched yourself too thin with that spell. Now it is time for you to know what-"

Raynolt interrupted him, laughing. He winced in pain and grabbed his shoulder. "You really are a blind old fool, aren't you? Do you think I could get away with your murder? No, my job was to weaken the protection spell around you. As much as I would like to take your life, that's not my job."

Evelyn felt a rising horror clench her heart. What is he talking about?

Raynolt glanced over Boltus' shoulder and nodded. Boltus' eyes widened in shock as the runes covering his body flared brilliantly and then darkened. 

Evelyn stared in disbelief at the dagger stuck in his back. She watched, time slowing down, as his eyes drooped and then closed. He slumped to his knees and fell to his chest.

Standing over the body was a man dressed all in black. A hood pulled over his head shadowed his features. He bent down over the body and pulled free his dagger. A Shadow Dagger.

Magi Victus! Evelyn could only watch in horror as the man turned toward her.

"No, not yet, Sanje," Raynolt said. He walked over to the body of the Grand Master, still holding his injured shoulder, and flipped him over with his foot. He stared down at his face in silent contemplation. Then he spat on the face of his former Master.

The insult was enough to banish Evelyn's fears; anger replaced it. "How dare you! You are going to pay for this!"

Raynolt and the Magi Victus, Sanje, shared a smile. "She has fire, doesn't she Sanje?"

The shadowed hood turned toward her. She felt ice-cold fear slide down her back. "I would love to extinguish that fire," the Magi Victus rasped. He held up his dagger.

"I said no, Sanje. I need to question her. I saw her husband, Daminus, leave this office yesterday. I believe the dearly departed Grand Master may have started an investigation into the assassinations. I need to find out how much she knows."

"Have it your way," Sanje replied, slipping that dreadful Shadow Dagger back into its sheath. He turned back toward the Magi. "You barely managed to do a good enough job on his shield. My dagger barely found the opening in his protection spell."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 02



"Then I suggest you improve your skill," Raynolt replied coldly. "Jon Laurent wouldn't have even needed my help."

Sanje's hand squeezed into a fist and moved toward his dagger. Raynolt smiled, clearly winning some sort of victory. "Regardless, the job is done. It's time for you to be gone. I warded this area of the Emporium so nobody should have noticed anything. But you can never be too sure."

Sanje did not turn to leave. "One last warning Raynolt; you better be a man of your word. I am not risking war with the Magi just so you can betray me."

Raynolt waved his hand. "We have been over this. I need you for this plan to work. It would make no sense to betray you." Raynolt glanced down at Evelyn and smiled. "Now leave us. I have some rather unpleasant business to take care of."

Evelyn felt her robes flutter. She glanced back at the Magi Victus and was shocked to discover that he was already gone.

"Fast, aren't they?" Raynolt asked. He held out his one good hand. Evelyn spat on the floor and stayed where she was. Raynolt smiled and turned around as the sound of boots crunching on the floor announced a visitor.

***

No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, Sophina just couldn't stop from worrying. She had a hunch something was going on and her instincts were usually right. Still, the threat of abandoning her post and getting docked a day's pay was enough to make her stand at her post, no matter how much she itched to see if her beloved Evelyn was all right.

She leaned back against the wall and sighed. I am getting too jumpy lately. All of these blasted assassinations have everyone on edge around here. 

Lately, she found that she couldn't walk into the guard barracks without people putting a hand to the hilt of a sword before they realized who walked in. There was very real feeling of danger in the air.

Sophina had just managed to convince herself that there was nothing suspicious going on tonight when she saw another Magi walk past the hallway toward the Grand Master's office. She recognized him. It was the Master of the 5th Tier, Darrius Northwood. He, too, appeared very intent on his destination as he jogged down the hall.

Alright, now I know something is wrong! Sophina stood against the wall in painful hesitation. She put her hand on the hilt of her sword and considered the situation for several minutes. My instincts had never led me astray. Something is wrong; I can feel it. Evelyn needs my help.

She unsheathed her sword and took a step forward. She struggled for a moment with her duty and her instinct. Her instinct won out. She walked quickly to the hallway leading to the Grand Master's office. She was just about to turn the corner when she heard footsteps coming toward her.

***

"Ah, Darrius, you are just on time," Raynolt said, turning toward his visitor. "I need you to take our friend Evelyn to my office for questioning."

Darrius Northwood, the Master of the 5th Tier, glanced down at Evelyn. Evelyn felt another blow to her stomach. My own Master is involved in this betrayal? How deep does this go?

"Can I have a few minutes alone first?" Darrius asked. 

Raynolt glanced at Evelyn and smiled. "Ok, but make it fast. I need to announce soon that the Grand Master has just been murdered by the Magi Victus. But first I need Morgana to heal this shoulder." He strode quickly out of the room.

Darrius stared intently at Evelyn. She felt a slow horror creep over her mind. She remembered suddenly how Darrius would leer at her during social functions. Once or twice she had to stop Daminus from going over and saying something. Now she wished with all her heart that Daminus was here. 

My love, wherever you are, please protect me...

Darrius' eyes glowed silver as he quickly cast a spell of binding. Ropes of runic symbols tied themselves around Evelyn, pinning her arms to her sides. She was not advanced enough to cast spells without hand movements, so he knew she was stuck. She watched in horror as he walked toward her.

He was a physically imposing man. He was pale with dark brown hair that curled tightly to his head. His robes stretched around his impressive frame. The female Magi would often joke that if Darrius paid more mind to his studies than to his body he would be a 10th Tier mage already. Evelyn didn't feel like laughing now.

"I have dreamed about this moment for so many years. To have a chance to make love to a woman who is soul-bonded...it is beyond my imagining."

Evelyn felt her body tremble in fear. Darrius stopped in front of her and grabbed his robes around the neck. He pulled it over his head and dropped it to the floor. Evelyn was shocked to see that he wasn't wearing any under garments. His stomach was heavily muscled. His thighs were thick. His cock lay nestled in a thatch of black hair between his legs. It hung down farther than Evelyn thought possible. 

This was the first cock she had seen outside of Daminus. The size of it scared her to death.

"Do you know what my area of study was?" he asked her softly.

She shook her head. She could feel tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. Daminus, please where are you...

Darrius grabbed his cock and stroked it absently as he gazed down at her. "I studied the human body. More specifically, I studied all the ways magic can pleasure the body. Would you like to experience my results?"

Evelyn shook her head frantically and struggled against the invisible bonds. She knew it was pointless but she did not want to think about what was going to happen. Daminus! She willed the thought across the soul-bond.

Darrius gestured with his fingers and magic runes that were shaped into hands picked her up from the floor. She was forcibly turned around, facing away from him, and was bent over at the waist. More runic bands were cast to hold her in this position.

She heard him approach her. Her heart sped up as fear made her clench her teeth. She felt the bottom of her robe flip up onto her back. The shift underneath the robe quickly followed, exposing her bare ass and legs to the monster behind her.

"Magnificent," he heard him whisper. She felt his fingers caress her ass. The fingers trailed down her thighs and back up. She felt her skin tingle. No...no...NO! He is using magic!

He was using the same technique Daminus would often use on her. She bit her lip as she tried to deny the feeling rising up in her. It was magic; her body was defenseless to its power.

"You were with Daminus your whole life, weren't you? You have never had another man do this to you? The thought is...intoxicating. Sadly, I only have a few minutes to spend with you. I better get started."

She felt a finger plunge inside of her. She screamed. God, why is this happening? She sobbed as his finger, alight with magic, quickly got her juices flowing.

"I'm sorry we don't have more time to spend together," he said sadly. "I would love to take all day with you. Perhaps after Raynolt has all he needs from you he will let me have my desire." 

She felt his finger withdraw. Seconds later a greater pressure was being applied to her opening. She knew it was the head of that enormous cock. She cried harder.

"I can't believe I am about to penetrate-UGH!" 

She felt the pressure lift from her opening. 

What was that?. 

It took several seconds for her to realize that she could move freely; the spell of binding was lifted. She quickly pulled down her robe and whirled around.

Someone in the armor of a guard of the Emporium was pulling a sword from the back of the Magi. The guard looked up at Evelyn and stared for several seconds. Evelyn felt sick from all the twists and turns of the evening. 

Whatever game this is, just get it over with.

***

Sophina said a silent prayer to the God and flattened herself against the wall, willing herself to become part of it. The footsteps grew louder. Sophina sucked in her breath and held it. Raynolt Teryus strode right by her, never turning his head. He was too intent on holding his shoulder and muttering under his breath. Sophina's eyes widen in shock as she saw a blackened hole on the back of the Magi's shoulder.

Evelyn!

She waited until Raynolt's footsteps faded away before she started running in the opposite direction, toward the Grand Master's office. Her battle instincts had kicked in. All the fear and worry had vanished. She was no longer thinking consciously; everything she did in this trance was on instincts and reflexes. She ran all the way down the hall and stopped before she reached the doorway.

The door was a charred ruin. She inched her way forward, silent even in heavy armor. She got her first glimpse into the room. A naked Magi was inserting his finger into another naked Magi. The sight was so ridiculous that Sophina snapped out of her battle trance.

What in the nine hells is going on? 

She moved sideways into the room and saw that the female Magi was Evelyn. Tears were streaming down her face. The sight shot an arrow of pain straight through Sophina's heart. For the first time in her life, she felt a murderous rage fill her heart.

She recognized Darrius Northwood as she studied his face to focus her hate. "I'm sorry we don't have more time to spend together," he told Evelyn sadly. "I would love to take all day with you. Perhaps after Raynolt has all he needs from you he will let me have my desire." He withdrew his finger from Evelyn.

Sophina's hand squeezed the hilt of her sword as she sneaked closer. The rage inside of her made her bit her cheek to keep from screaming. She felt warm blood fill her mouth. 

Darrius was lining up his cock to shove into Evelyn. Sophina was within a foot of his back. He was too preoccupied to hear her even if she had charged in. She raised her sword.

With all of her might, Sophina drove the blade toward his exposed back. "I can't believe I am about to penetrate-UGH!" Darrius couldn't continue, as a foot long blade drove through his spine and out through his chest. 

His legs jerked and fell from under him. Sophina held onto the blade as his body hit the floor. She glanced over at Evelyn and saw her pale, gorgeous ass staring at her. She felt her battle rage mix with lust at the sight. 

She cursed herself for admiring Evelyn in this vulnerable position and turned her head. She put her boot on the back of Darrius' head and yanked the blade free. She was thankful for the helmet; she could feel herself blushing.

Evelyn was staring at her warily. Sophina's heart went out to her. I love you, Evelyn...

***

The guard removed the helmet. It was Sophina Crews. Her light blonde hair was matted to her head with sweat. Her cheeks were flushed red. "I'm sorry I took so long Evelyn. It looks like I got here just in time to stop this bastard from putting his cock in you." She kicked the body with her boot.

Evelyn dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands. She lifted her face after a few seconds and stared at her savior. She took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. "Thank the God for you Sophina! Now let's get the hell out of here before someone comes looking!"

Sophina nodded and put the helmet back on. "Follow me." She turned but then stopped. She stared sadly at the body of the Grand Master. "I can't believe they killed him," she whispered.

Evelyn glanced at the body and turned her head quickly away. "He died protecting me. He spent all his energy on defensive spells. If I hadn't been here, he would have probably won..."

Evelyn shook her head sadly and got up from the floor. She suddenly felt terror squeeze her heart. She was so used to the feeling that it took a few heartbeats to realize that it wasn't her fear. It came from the soul-bond. "Daminus!" she gasped. "Sophina, we have to get to Ashford Caulston's house right away!"

***

Everything clicked suddenly inside of Daminus' head. "You enchanted the King!" he told Ashford excitedly. "But with what...you said you wanted to protect him." 

He stopped and stared at Ashford. He smiled and nodded at Daminus to continue. "You...cast permanent protection spells around him, didn't you?"

"Yes. Braxus, Christiana, Altus, and I cast our own protection spell on him. Do you see the beauty of it? The protection spell automatically resets when a spell penetrates the enchantment; only one spell can break a protection spell at a time. A spell also loses power when it breaks through. Normally, that doesn't matter because the spell kills the person who cast the enchantment spell. But if multiple protection spells are cast on the same target, the spell will not have enough power to breach the second layer."

Daminus finished for him. "And if you can cast 4 permanent protection spells, you could possibly get by the first layer but there is no Magi alive powerful enough to breach all 4 layers. That means that the King is...untouchable." His voice was filled with awe.

Ashford nodded. "Not even the Magi Victus with their Shadow Daggers can penetrate those layers. Nobody knows this, but several assassination attempts have been tried on the King in the last few years. But now 3 of us are dead...their spells are no longer protecting the King. It is just my spell now. It's a 7th Tier protection spell. That was the best I could do. The King still has his own 10th Tier spell so it will still be almost impossible to kill him. But it's very tenuous right now. I am all that's left..."

"I understand why you did what you did," Daminus told him, trying to offer some level of contentment.

"It was a very dangerous thing to do," Ashford whispered. "We didn't want to do it at first, but after the first failed assassination attempt, we knew we had to. You see, we bound our living essence to the King. That means if he were to die..."

"You all would die, too" Daminus said, horrified.

"Yes, we would. Like I said, it was a very dangerous spell. But Reynar was worth it."

Daminus stared at the rough stone under his fingers. "This is all about assassinating the King. But who would want to do that? King Reynar is the single most important person in recent memory."

"I don't know who would do this...but I am afraid we will never find out. He is here." Silver light poured out of his eyes and mouth. He must have sensed one of his wards went off. "Daminus, before you came here tonight I was resigned to my fate...I could have fled last night but I could not leave Reynar to the mercy of his enemies. But now...I want Jon Laurent to remember our names for the rest of his life."

Daminus smiled and opened himself to the magic. It always felt like a curtain parting from his soul as intense energy swept through. It used to be a mental exercise when he first started at the Emporium but now it was second nature to open himself up. He knew the silver light of magic poured from his own eyes. The power was, and still is, intoxicating.

Forgive me, Evelyn. I could not leave Ashford to his fate. I will love you in this life and any other. He hoped she didn't feel his fear across the soul-bond.

The door to the kitchen swung open. A figure dressed all in black stepped into the room.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 03



Jon Laurent stepped into the room, his Shadow Dagger out in front of him in a defensive posture. Two Magi stood across the stone kitchen from him. Both of their eyes glowed silver. 

The one on the left was tall with long dark hair that was matted against his head. He had dark circles under his eyes and a weeks-old beard covered his jaw. In short, he had the look of someone who had just come back from a long journey. This must be Ashford Caulston.

The mage on the right was short with tightly curled, dark blonde hair. Jon could sense greater power from this man than from Ashford Caulston. This was going to be tricky.

They both already had protective spells cast around them. Jon took advantage of the moment of silence his arrival had caused to study the runes surrounding each Magi. Ashford Caulston's was a 7th Tier spell. The other Magi's spell was 9th Tier.

Only the most advanced Magi Victus could do what he just did; none could read runes better than Jon and certainly not in a matter of seconds. Most Magi Victus were touchy about the subject of magic for...obvious reasons. Consequently, no one bothered to take advantage of what gifts they did have to improve their knowledge.

Jon pointed his dagger at the shorter Magi. "I am not here for you, Magi. Leave now and I will spare your life."

The shorter Magi turned toward Ashford. They shared a small smile. He turned back to Jon. "I think not, half-breed. I would explain about brotherhood and sacrifice but I doubt you would even comprehend what those words mean."

Jon smiled. If they thought to unbalance him with insults, they were painfully mistaken. Instead of taking offense at the insult, Jon bowed low. "Forgive me, where are my manners? I am Jon Laurent of the Magi Victus. May I have the name of the man whom I address?

The blond-haired Magi stared warily at him for several seconds, as though he expected a trap. Finally, he said "I am Daminus Ventus, Master of the 9th Tier of the Guild of Magi."

Jon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I find myself in great company, it seems. But alas, I don't believe we will have the time to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea together."

The Magi tensed as Jon shifted his stance. Ashford Caulston held up his hand and began chanting. Runes flashed fast in front of him as his fingers weaved a delicate dance. Jon knew what spell he was casting. He smiled.

"Ashford Caulston, Magi of the 9th Tier, ambassador and diplomat, you have a deathmark placed on your head. I am here to collect."

Ashford's eyes widen in shock as Jon disappeared.

***

Evelyn let out a deep breath and almost collapsed from relief. Sophina grabbed her forearm to steady her. She nodded her thanks and they continued past the front gates of the Emporium.

Evelyn's deepest fear that she would have to fight her way out of the Emporium never materialized. Evidently, Raynolt was so secure in his arrogance that he never considered the fact that Evelyn might escape. 

Or he might have been preoccupied with the rather large hole burned through his shoulder by the Grand Master. Evelyn almost smiled at the thought.

No one had paid attention to the seemingly normal nighttime stroll Evelyn and her guard took along the halls of the Emporium. As far as the guards knew, nothing unusual had happened tonight. That would change in a few hours. 

Evelyn shuddered to think of how the rest of the Guild of Magi will take the news of the Grand Master's death. Will there be a great divide in the ranks?

These thoughts found no traction in her mind, however. Her fear for Daminus overpowered any other emotion she might be feeling. She walked slowly down the path from the front gates until they disappeared from view.

"Now," Sophina said, grabbing Evelyn by the arm and leading her to the cover of a nearby tree. Evelyn opened herself up to the magic and began casting. Runes twisted around Sophina and herself.

"Is it done?" Sophina asked. Evelyn nodded. She sometimes forgot that magical runes could only be seen other Magi, so little time did she spend with non-Magi. 

And the Magi Victus can see, as well. Evelyn almost snarled at the thought. Those damn half-breeds! If Raynolt hadn't been such a murdering bastard, I might have agreed with his war proposal. But she knew Daminus would never support such a proposal. He was far wiser than she.

Sophina shivered. "It makes my hair stand on end to think that there is something covering me that I can't see."

Evelyn nodded. "I'm sorry, but speed is of the essence right now. Are you ready? Remember: just trust in the magic and your body will adapt."

Sophina licked her lips. She looked scared. Evelyn reached out and grabbed her hand. Sophina jumped in surprise and then blushed. Evelyn thought it was a curious reaction but didn't have time to think about it.

Still holding her hand, Evelyn began to run. Sophina gasped in surprise as she starting moving at a speed faster than was humanly possible. She stumbled as her legs tried to cope with hitting the ground several yards at a time. Evelyn kept a firm grip on her hand.

Sophina, to her credit, quickly adjusted. "This is incredible!" she laughed as they raced down the near-deserted streets of Astuari. 

Evelyn hoped than not too many people were out at this late hour. The sight of a woman in a robe and a guard in full plate armor running faster than the wind might cause a stir.

Daminus, just hold on. I am coming. She willed the thought across the soul-bond. She knew he wouldn't hear her; only extreme emotions carried across the bond. But she didn't care. She had to make it in time.

"This way!" Sophina shouted into the roar of the wind that whipped past them. She tugged Evelyn's hand and she let her lead. Sophina had worked at Ashford's house several times and knew the fastest way there.

They ran down back alleys and side streets at a furious pace. Sophina said he lived about 5 miles from the Emporium. Evelyn estimated that with this enhancement spell, it would only take 10 minutes.

Sure enough, after several minutes of twists and turns, Sophina stopped abruptly in the middle of a street. Evelyn dropped the enhancement spell. Sophina gasped and fell with a crunch to the street.

"Sophina, I am so sorry!" Evelyn gasped as she helped the woman back on her feet. Sophina swayed several times before she could steady herself. "The shock on the body is...abrupt. Forgive me; my mind is not here right now. Your body should readjust in a few minutes."

Evelyn turned toward the house that Sophina had stopped in front of. Now that she was here, she wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She wanted nothing more than to charge in there and protect her husband but she knew it would futile. Daminus had taught her much about battle and strategy. She was no match for Jon Laurent.

"My lady, why do we wait? Your husband is in there, is he not?" Sophina drew her sword. Her arm quivered as she held it out. She took a deep breath and seemed to fall into some kind of trance. Her arm steadied. 

Remarkable. "Yes, Daminus is in there. I can feel it. But there is something I haven't told you yet...Jon Laurent is in there as well."

Sophina turned toward her. She lifted the visor on her helmet and gave Evelyn a fearful look. "What...what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Evelyn whispered. She had to figure something out.

***

Raynolt Teryus winced as Morgana laid her hands on his wound. Her eyes widened in shock. "What happened?" she asked.

"I was...caught off guard. It was a momentarily lapse that I soon corrected." Raynolt hated admitting any deficiency in his skill. 

Damn that old man! It was his fault that he lay on Morgana's bed, stripped to the waist and waiting to be healed.

Morgana's lips tightened in anger. "I thought you said you could handle him?"

Raynolt glared at her. Morgana met his gaze for several seconds before bowing her head. Satisfied, Raynolt said, "He wasn't alone. That insipid whore Evelyn Ventus was with him. I had to fight both of them at the same time."

Morgana hissed. "Evelyn? What was she doing there?"

Raynolt suppressed a smile. Evelyn was Morgana's bitter rival. "It seems Boltus ordered Daminus to investigate the assassinations. Evelyn may have come tonight because she knows something."

"Is she still alive?" Morgana licked her lips. 

My dear Morgana, you really have it out for this woman don't you? Petty Magi and their petty squabbles...this is why I have to change things.

"Yes she is, actually. I ordered Darrius to bring her to my office as soon as he is done with her."

"Done with her?" Morgana threw back her head and laughed. "That freak is raping her, isn't he? The thought of having a soul-bonded woman must have made him drool! Oh, how I wish I could see it!"

Raynolt let her indulge herself for a few seconds before interrupting her laughter. "Yes, well, if you behave yourself, I might give her over to you once I have questioned her. In the meantime, my dear, could you fix this shoulder already?"

Still chuckling to herself, Morgana's eyes glowed silver as she began to move her fingers over the wound on his shoulder. Raynolt kept her around for this very reason. She was only a 5th Tier mage but her healing skills were of the 10th Tier.

"Brace yourself," she told him. Raynolt closed his eyes and gripped the side of the mattress. He felt her hand come down on his wound and all he felt for several minutes afterwards was intense agony. 

Magical energy roared through his body as it began to knit his shoulder back together. He convulsed and bit his tongue and fought the pain. Blood seeped out of his tightly clenched lips. His teeth were clenched so tight together that he feared they might shatter.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the pain lessened enough for him to open his eyes. Morgana stared down at him worriedly. Her face was paler than its usual white glow. "I thought I almost lost you there for a second," she whispered.

He wiped blood off his chin with a quivering hand. His muscles felt like they had turned to water. "What in the nine hells was that?"

Morgana didn't answer but instead began fiddling with his pillow. "Morgana," he said warningly. At least he meant to say it warningly but it came out as a croak. She got up and brought back a glass of water. He consented to let her hold it for him as he drank.

He finished the glass and dropped his head back to the pillow. "Morgana, what just happened?" His voice sounded stronger this time.

She stared down into his eyes and smoothed the damp hair off his forehead. "You were dying," she said at last. Tears glistened in her eyes.

Raynolt felt the earth drop out beneath him. That old man pushed me to the brink of death? Impossible! "I think you are exaggerating, Morgana."

Her eyes flared as she huffed, "I am a healer of the 10th Tier Raynolt! I think I know when somebody is dying!"

He wanted to argue further but didn't have the strength. He would let the affront to his pride pass just this once. "I am sorry," he told her.

If she heard the lie in his words, she chose to ignore it. Instead, she smiled down at him. "That was the most complex healing I ever had to do. I can't imagine the pain it must have caused."

"About that," Raynolt said angrily, "why didn't you warn me? You acted like you were about to perform an ordinary mundane healing."

"And make you suffer with needless worry?" she snapped back. "Forgive me, but I don't like the thought of torturing you."

He reached up and ran his fingers through her long blond hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are when you are angry?"

"Do you think I will fall prey to your flattery?" Her pale cheeks reddened with more than anger. He smiled at the small victory. 

The red on her cheeks really does heighten her beauty. Amazingly, he felt his cock twitch as he stared at her. It seems not all of me is out of energy.

He curled a strand of hair around his fingers and pulled it toward him. She leaned down and brought her lips to his. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth. Her hand trailed down his naked chest and reached under his loincloth. Her warm hand quickened his arousal. 

Ok maybe I keep her around for more than her healing skills.

"I am glad to see that someone is regaining his strength," she whispered teasingly. "I hope there is a way I can make up for the hurt I caused earlier."

"Yes, I believe there is," he gasped as her fingers began to tug on his balls. "I need the magic of your mouth to recover from this grievous wound."

She smiled at him playfully and moved down toward his legs. She pulled his loincloth down slowly, her fingers trailing along his inner thighs. The cloth finally pulled free. He was harder than he ever remembered.

As she lowered her lips to his throbbing cock, he marveled at his own arousal. His whole body felt as weak as a newborn kitten but he had never felt more aroused in his whole life. He closed his eyes and reveled in this new feeling as her lips and tongue worked their own special brand of magic.

It must be the battle with Boltus...that's why I feel so aroused. He had spent countless years dreaming of the day when he would topple that foolish old man. He had never felt more alive than in the brief moments when he engaged the Grand Master in battle.

The recollection of the scene and the lips on his cock made him groan in pleasure. Morgana looked up at him and pulled her lips off. "You like this, do you?" she asked him teasingly.

For an answer, he reached up with his still weak-hand and grabbed the back her head and guided her back to his cock. She looked at him and flicked her tongue out, licking the head of his cock. The feeling sent a shiver through him.

Her tongue feels like the lightning bolt that ripped through my shoulder. The lightning bolt hadn't been a pleasant feeling but it did feel powerful. Morgana was a different power. She held the power of life and death. This woman sucking his cock had just brought him back from the brink of death.

He never knew that power could translate into lust. His cock ached with the reverberations of power. The power of Boltus. The power of Morgana. Both were brought to their knees in his presence.

I am power. His body shivered again with the thought. Morgana increased her pace, perhaps believing that she was driving him crazy. He glanced at her and watched as her lips wrapped around his cock and was moved down her throat. 

She sucked him like this for several seconds before popping back up for air. She massaged his balls with her hand as she caught her breath.

He closed his eyes again and felt an ache deep within him. It felt like the gathering of power, waiting to be released. Again he was struck by the similarities of power and lust. This is how he felt as he stared down Boltus. The magic was gathering inside of him, begging for release. He knew he would not lose, not with the power he felt.

He felt that same power gathering in his balls. He wanted nothing more than to unleash it and obliterate Morgana with it. He clenched his teeth and rode the wave of euphoria that threatened to overwhelm him. Morgana stopped sucking, sensing his imminent release. Her lips left his cock and she began pumping him with her hand.

He kept his eyes closed when he unleashed his power. He felt the sticky substance splash his thighs and belly. Morgana continued to squeeze every last drop out of him. His body relaxed and he unclenched his teeth.

The power was gone, momentarily. It would return. It always did.

"I have never seen you like that," Morgana said. "What got into you?" He opened his eyes and saw her wiping her hands with a cloth. She bent down and removed his seed from his legs and belly.

"Power," he mumbled. He felt even weaker than he did before. His eyes closed shut again.

"What was that?" she asked. But he didn't have the energy to respond. He felt sleep taking him down.

A loud pounding on the door snapped his eyes open.

"Master Teryus! Are you in there? It's urgent!" 

The voice belonged to Lenard Demps. Morgana looked at him and nodded her head at the door. He nodded back at her. She walked swiftly to the door. It took all of his strength to reach down and pull up his loincloth.

Morgana opened the door. "Master Teryus is in no condition to receive—hey!" Lenard pushed Morgana aside and quickly strode over to Raynolt. Morgana gritted her teeth; Lenard was 8th Tier and was her superior.

You better watch your back Lenard. He almost chuckled at how protective Morgana was of him. He knew she hated anyone who tried to take her place of power by his side. The tall, brown-skinned Magi shot her a warning glance.

"What is it Lenard? I thought I told you before I came in here to wait for me in my office so we can question Evelyn Ventus."

"I am sorry to interrupt you Master Teryus, but I have urgent news. I waited in your office like you told me. But Darrius never showed up. I went to the Grand Master's office to see what was taking so long."

"And?" Raynolt prompted him when he fell silent.

"Darrius...is dead. It was a sword thrust through the back. Evelyn Ventus is nowhere to be found."

Anger gave Raynolt enough strength to swing his legs over the bed and sit up. "Damn that Darrius! I told him to make it quick!" He gritted his teeth in frustration. "You said he was killed by a sword?"

"Yes, Master Teryus. I have seen enough battle fields to be sure he was killed with a sword."

Raynolt glanced at the wall, his eyes distant. "A sword..." he mumbled to himself. "But only guards carry swords inside the Emporium."

"I came to the same conclusion," Lenard chimed in. "I already told Captain Aquanas to take a roll. He should be here any minute with the results."

"Very good, Lenard. Morgana!" Raynolt barked suddenly. "Help me into my robes."

"I don't think you are in any condition..." she trailed off, seeing the look in his eyes. She bowed her head respectfully and retrieved a robe for him from her closet.

"Lenard, help me stand," Raynolt commanded. Lenard held onto his elbow as Raynolt struggled to rise. He was smart enough not to try to help Raynolt up. That was one of the reasons Raynolt trusted him enough to join his conspiracy.

It took Raynolt several minutes to rise to his full height and several more minutes to get his legs steady under him. Morgana was just putting the robe on him when there was another knock on the door.

"Master Demps, its Captain Aquanas." Lenard strode to the door and let the Captain in. The Captain looked nervous. His heavily-lined face was pale and sweaty.

"What news do you have?" Raynolt asked.

Captain Aquanas took a breath before replying. "I conducted the roll as commanded. There is one guard missing; Sophina Crews." He glanced nervously at Raynolt and looked away.

Raynolt studied the man as he tapped his fingers to his lips. The old veteran was almost squirming under his gaze. 

I am power, Captain. Can you sense it? "What should I do with you Captain? You have just let one of your guards murder a Magi of the Emporium."

The sweat was almost dripping off the Captain's face. He wiped it off with his coat sleeve before responding. "Master Teryus...I...I apologize. Sophina Crews was a nuisance and I should have taken care of her a long time ago."

"Much good that does Darrius Northwood, Captain," he whispered into the dead quiet. The Captain's face went whiter. Raynolt sensed Morgana and Lenard shifting next to him. 

They can sense it, too.

Raynolt opened himself to the magic. He closed his eyes as the sweet flood of life flowed into him...and swept him away. His body convulsed and fell to the ground. His mind was detached, lost in the river of magic. Distantly, he could hear voices.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 03



"You can't draw power when your body is too weak!"

"What is wrong with him?"

"Grab his legs!"

Power. He felt his lips twitch up in a smile.

***

No, Daminus realized, Jon Laurent didn't disappear, no matter what his eyes said. He knew little about the Magi Victus but what he did know was that they are fast. So Daminus did the only thing he could think of; he cast a quick 1st Tier Push Spell at Ashford.

Ashford grunted and he lost control of his Evisceration Spell as a surge of magical energy pushed him across the room. He rolled several times and hit the wall. He popped back up to his feet. 

Jon Laurent was standing where Ashford had been just a split second ago. Jon's dagger was thrust out in front of him, right where Ashford's heart would have been if it weren't for Daminus.

Jon looked over at Daminus and smiled. "Well played," he said. "I forgot how fun it was to fight two Magi at the same time."

Fun? That man is crazy! Daminus was surprised he had reacted so fast; his body was almost stiff with fear. But it was always this way when he was in battle. It sometimes felt like his mind left his body behind.

Jon disappeared without warning. Damn it he is too fast! "Ashford, you know what to do!"

Daminus pushed his fear aside and began the intricate finger movements needed for this 9th Tier spell. He glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye but kept the spell locked firmly in his concentration.

Several concussive blasts rang throughout the room. Ashford was throwing out his hands in fast motion. Fist-sized fireballs were hitting the ground in every conceivable direction. Daminus was aware enough to know that those fireballs were just 2nd Tier. Ashford didn't need long incantations or finger movements to cast those. He was just trying to buy some time. Those fireballs were still deadly, though.

Daminus would catch quick glimpses here and there as Jon continued to easily dodge the fireballs. Ashford had to fire rapidly in all directions because he could not see where Jon was. 

Smoke quickly filled the kitchen as stone walls and floor continued to be chipped away. Daminus ignored his watering eyes as he focused on the last word in his mind and formed the last rune with his fingers.

There! Magical runes covered his body and disappeared. He felt them soak into his being. His body chemistry changed rapidly. He had used this spell so many times during the war that he no longer needed any time to adjust.

"Daminus!" Ashford bellowed through the smoke. Daminus focused his vision and saw a brief flash only a few feet away from Ashford. Jon had not only dodged the fireballs but also made his way toward Ashford.

Daminus reacted on instinct. He disappeared.

***

Jon closed the last few feet toward Ashford, dodged one last pathetic fireball, and reached out with his dagger. His keen senses alerted him at the last second. He felt more than saw Daminus disappear behind him. He contorted his body in mid-air and ducked into a headlong roll past the shocked-looking Ashford.

Daminus was standing right where Jon would have been if he had continued his movement. Daminus' hand was outstretched; it held a dagger. It was an ordinary dagger but lethal just the same.

Jon rolled to his feet and faced the two Magi wearily. He nodded in respect at Daminus. "Daminus Ventus...I should have recognized that name. You led the Magi against the Raves in the War of the Desert. The Raves' elite soldiers are master swordsmen. You were legendary for the body enhancements spell you created to combat them."

"I learned that trick from the Magi Victus, actually." He opened his mouth to say more but thought better of it. It would have probably been some insult against the Magi Victus.

Jon couldn't help but laugh. "Very clever, my friend. It's not the same as what we do, but it's still very clever. You have earned my respect. And because you have earned it, I will give you one last chance to walk away." The laughter died from his face; only grim death showed now. "I hope you take my advice."

Daminus looked over at his friend. "What do you think Ash? I am kind of tired."

Ashford showed his teeth in a humorless smile. "Please don't let me keep you from anything important."

Daminus' smile was just as grim. "I have nothing more important than to be here with my friend."

Ashford's eyes tightened in worry. "Daminus...what about Evelyn?"

Daminus closed his eyes. When he opened them again his eyes shone. Daminus turned his gaze toward Jon Laurent. "Evelyn of all people would want me to stay. She knows who I am. She understands this and knows the risks we take together every day of our lives. Some things in this life are worth the ultimate price."

Jon saw into those eyes and felt a pang in his own heart. It felt like an echo from the past. "Leave," he pleaded. The two Magi almost rocked back in shock at his tone of voice. "What you have is worth protecting, no matter what. This fight is not worth it. Trust me."

For one brief hopeful moment, Jon saw Daminus hesitate. But then his composure firmed and he squared his shoulders. "One way or another, Jon Laurent, I am going to teach you about brotherhood."

"So be it," he replied. His tone was flat and even. He was the ruthless killer again.

Jon saw Daminus' eyes flick behind Jon's shoulder and widen in shock. It was all the warning he needed. He spun around faster than the eye could see and stabbed his dagger out.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!"

***

Evelyn continued to study Ashford's house as she desperately tried to plan a rescue mission.

"My lady," Sophina said, "I see no possible plan that could work against Jon Laurent. Our best bet is to just barge in there and start hacking."

"There has to be a better way," she replied. "I can still feel Daminus along the soul-bond. His fear has faded. I have another moment to think."

Sophina grabbed her arm gently and looked her in the eyes. "My lady...the longer we wait the worse our chance is to save your husband. We need to go in there now. Maybe we might get lucky and catch him off guard."

Evelyn threw up her hands in frustration. "Damn it to the nine hells! You are right. I can't think of anything."

At that moment Ashford's windows began lighting up. Great booms of explosions carried across the street. The ground beneath their feet shook. Anybody within a 6 block radius would know that a Magi is fighting for their life.

"My lady!" Sophina screamed over the booms of explosion.

Evelyn didn't need to be told twice. She raced toward the house. Sophina did her best to keep up but her heavy armor made her fall behind. Evelyn conquered her fear enough to slow down and keep pace with Sophina.

Sophina nodded in gratitude as they raced down the path toward the front door. They slowed and approached the front door quietly. It was open.

Sophina stepped in front of Evelyn and walked slowly into the front entrance. Booms continued to rattle the walls. Sophina held her sword out in front of her as she led the way into the house.

They stopped at the first hallway and listened. The explosions seemed to be coming down the hallway. Sophina nodded her head in the direction of the explosions. Evelyn took a second to gather herself and nodded.

Please, my love, hold on. I am coming.

They walked cautiously down the long hallway. It ended with stone steps down into darkness. Sophina patted Evelyn's arm in encouragement and began the slow descent down the steps.

The stairs wound around the bottom of the house in a spiral. At last it stopped and became a long stone hallway. Flashes of fire came from the open doorway at the end. They crept along the hallway and stopped and listened as the explosions stopped.

Evelyn could hear voices. She urged Sophina forward. Sophina put her heavy boots down very softly. They approached the edge of the doorway. Sophina held out her hand to stop Evelyn from moving. Sophina very slowly peeked around the doorway.

She watched for several seconds and then retreated. She motioned Evelyn to walk back down the hallway.

Once they were out of earshot, Sophina whispered, "Daminus and Ashford are still alive. They are talking to Jon Laurent. Laurent's back is to the doorway."

Evelyn's eyes widened. "That's our chance!" she whispered excitedly.

Sophina held up her hand. "My lady, do you think anyone has a chance of sneaking up on Jon Laurent? I have a plan. I will charge in there and engage Laurent in a fight. I should last long enough to give you time to grab your husband and Ashford and get out of there." She spoke without fear.

Evelyn felt her heart clench. "Why would you sacrifice yourself for us?" she whispered.

Sophina stared so long at Evelyn that she almost didn't think she would answer. But she finally whispered back, "Some things in this life are worth dying for, my lady."

Evelyn grabbed her arm. "What are you dying for?"

Sophina turned her head. "For something I will never have. Let's go." She began walking back down the hallway.

Evelyn grabbed her. "Wait! I have a plan. It's simple but I think it will work. I will cast a quick silent spell on myself and I will stab Jon Laurent in the back."

Sophina shook her head. "He will sense you."

Evelyn's eyes shone with excitement. "No he won't! He is too busy fighting two powerful Magi to sense me!"

Evelyn didn't wait for an answer but started walking back down the hallway. She stopped at the doorway. Sophina leaned her helmeted-head close to Evelyn's ear.

"Good luck...Evelyn."

Evelyn felt something being pushed into her hand. It was Sophina's dagger. Evelyn nodded her gratitude and peeked around the edge.

"Evelyn of all people would want me to stay," her husband was saying. He looked so brave standing in front of Jon Laurent. "She knows who I am. She understands this and knows the risks we take together every day of our lives. Some things in this life are worth the ultimate price."

Yes they are, my love. I would never hold you back like that. No matter what the price may be.

Jon replied something that Evelyn didn't hear as she focused the spell in her mind. She made the quick finger movements and felt the spell settle down around her. She stepped around the corner. The spell silenced her approach.

She felt her hands shaking on the dagger as she neared Jon Laurent's back. She had not seen his face but she could feel the power coming from him. It was almost enough to make her turn around.

But she heard Daminus speak of brotherhood and she knew she could not. Her heart continued to drum inside her ears. She adjusted her grip on the dagger several times as she approached the unsuspecting back of Jon Laurent. She was glad she knew the Spell of Silence that masked her heavy breathing and clumsy footfalls.

She was only feet away when she saw Daminus' eyes glance toward her. She froze and stared back at him. She felt the soul-bond explode with love and passion. She wanted to sit down and weep from the force of it. Eyes blurring with tears, she raised the dagger.

Jon Laurent was no longer there.

Daminus stood in front of her. Everything was happening too fast for it to make any sense.

He smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. His face grimaced in pain and blood poured from his lips.

***

Daminus' eyes widened in shock as he spotted his beloved Evelyn standing behind Jon Laurent, a dagger in her hand. For one brief, shining moment he thought they had done the impossible. He felt his love pour out over the soul-bond.

And then he saw Jon Laurent's eyes widen. In that moment, Daminus knew he had made a mistake.

He reacted on instinct. He disappeared. 

His body carried him across the room in the blink of an eye. The enhancement spell affected not only his body but his brain as well. It allowed his brain to process information as fast as his body moved. So to him, everything seemed to slow down to a halt.

But Jon Laurent was equally fast. Daminus willed his body to move faster than it had ever moved. He sent a prayer to the God as he ran.

For once in his life, he knew his prayer was answered. He stepped in front of Evelyn at the precise moment Jon Laurent stabbed with his dagger.

I love you Evelyn.

***

"I love you," he whispered. The soul-bond sang with power. His eyes blazed silver so brightly that Evelyn had to look away or be blinded. The bond continued to thrum with emotions and a power that she had never felt before.

The glow faded. Evelyn kept her face turned away. She knew that Daminus was dead.

The soul-bond that sang with power only a moment before was bent and shattered. Evelyn fell to her knees and caught Daminus' falling body. She cradled it in her arms. She reached out with a hand and lovingly ran it through his blond curls. She closed his eyes with her hand. She kissed his forehead.

The scream that was ripped from her throat was almost inhuman.

***

Jon whirled around as fast as he could and stabbed with his dagger. As fast as he was, he was surprised for the first time in a long time that he wasn't fast enough. 

He saw Daminus move in front of him. He felt his dagger pierce through his protection spell and sink into his back.

He pulled the dagger out and stepped back. He watched as the woman who tried to kill him caught the body.

This must be Evelyn. He would let her have her moment of grief and then he would finally end this charade.

Evelyn's sudden scream was so shocking in its grief that Jon took a step back. He watched, stunned, as she began rocking back and forth, cradling the body of her lover.

It can't be... Jon watched in horror as the woman's eyes darted all over the room, as though seeking escape from the pain. She continued to wail in a voice that was discordant to any soul in the vicinity.

Jon turned and looked at Ashford. Ashford was sobbing.

No...no it can't be!

"They were soul-bonded," he breathed. Ashford stopped sobbing to stare with pure hatred. He nodded.

Jon turned back to witness a horror he wished he never had to witness again. The woman stopped wailing but Jon suspected it was because her throat was torn. Her eyes no longer darted around. They looked lost.

Her mind is shattered. She won't last long.

Jon's grip tightened on his dagger. It would be a mercy.

"Don't you dare," said a female voice. Jon looked up and wasn't surprise to see another guest. It was a guard from the Emporium. She reached up and took her helmet off and let it fall to the ground. Her beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed with tears.

"Fine," Jon snapped. He sheathed his dagger. 

I am done with this contract. Sanje can collect this himself if he wants.

The female guard squatted on her heels and very gently began to pry Evelyn's fingers off her beloved. Evelyn wailed in short near-silent gasps and began pounding on the woman's armor. The guard looked at her with such pity and suffering that Jon knew instantly that she was in love with her.

The guard removed her glove from her right hand and dropped it on the ground. "Forgive me Evelyn," she cried. Then she snapped her right hand out in a quick cross that smashed into the side of Evelyn's temple. Evelyn collapsed to the ground like a bag of bones.

Jon turned toward Ashford. "It's over. I am not collecting this contract. I would advice you all to run somewhere safe."

"How disappointing," rang a deep voice from behind. Jon whirled around.

Standing in the doorway were three Magi. Jon's Shadow Dagger vibrated roughly against his side. He turned and looked at Ashford. His face was grey.

"They are all 10th Tier," he whispered.

The lead Magi smiled. He glowed with three layers of 10th Tier protection spells. "I can't believe Jon Laurent is passing on a contract. What's the matter, too tough for you? Don't worry; we will finish the job for you.

"Who are you?" Jon asked.

"We are a little gift from Raynolt. It is time we dealt with you, Jon Laurent. Sanje sends his regards."

Three sets of eyes glowed silver.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 04



Note: I would like to thank all the people who have commented or emailed me. I am really enjoying writing this story for you. Also, this is the long awaited chapter where I reveal alot of the background information to this world. Please comment and let me know if I should keep writing. Thanks!

***

Ashford Caulston felt old, way past his 200 years. His body ached all over. He had no more energy. He doubted he could even summon a basic Light Spell. His emotions over the past two days have been all over the place. He was just...tired.

Looking at the three Magi who were about to take his life should have filled him with fear. But instead he was simply indifferent. He didn't have the energy to feel any type of emotion, let alone fear.

He glanced down at the body of his friend, Daminus. He turned his head away quickly. No, he was wrung out emotionally and physically. He had no room for grief. I am sorry, my friend. You deserved better.

The three Magi's eyes glowed silver. Ashford moved his aching body to stand next to Jon Laurent. Sophina looked up from Evelyn's unconscious body. Ashford motioned her to keep watch over her. Sophina nodded. She stood up and drew her sword.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Ashford asked quietly, stopping next to Jon.

"What's that?" Jon replied, never taking his eyes off the Magi. They had begun chanting incantations and weaving their fingers through the air.

"The greatest assassin in the history of Astuari is willing to let me go. Now I am to die by another's hand."

Jon Laurent smiled. "Life is full of these little ironies. If you live long enough, you will know what I mean."

Live long enough? I am almost 200 years old! Ashford frowned at him and then looked up at the Magi. 

He recognized all three, of course. The leader of the group was Corman Alante. He knew Corman only by reputation; he had met him only a handful of times. Corman was of dark skin with a temper to match. He was said to be extremely arrogant and somewhat cruel.

The two Magi flanking him were Elyus Pruitt and Job Roa. Elyus' robe strained at the seams against his very plump frame. He was as bald as an egg with a thick grey beard. He looked fatherly but Ashford knew from reputation that appearances can be deceiving. 

Job Rua was a very quiet and nicely mannered man. Ashford had encountered him frequently in the library of the Emporium. He was tall and thin and carried himself with great dignity. His sandy-blond hair was always neatly combed and his robes were of the latest fashion.

All three of them were of the 10th Tier.

"It looks like Raynolt is not pulling his punches," Ashford said.

Corman Alante frowned at them. He held up his hand and the two Magi next to him lowered their hands. "What is this? Are you two enjoying your little chat? I seriously doubt you can come up with a strategy to defeat three 10th Tier Magi."

Jon Laurent looked over at Ashford. "Can you defeat any of these Magi?"

Ashford snorted. "I barely have the energy to lift my finger, let alone weave a powerful enough spell to help in this fight. No, our lives are in your hands."

Corman's dark face shone with mirth. "You see, Jon Laurent? You have no chance to walk away from this. Your Shadow Dagger will not penetrate the three 10th Tier protection spells woven around me."

Jon shook his head at Ashford and sighed. "I guess I have to do everything myself."

"Corman is arrogant and foolish," Ashford said, loud enough to wipe the smirk from Corman's face. "He uses his lackeys to cast their protection spells on him, leaving them entirely defenseless. If you take them out first, you will only have Corman's protection spell to deal with."

Corman glared at Ashford. "For your insult, I will make sure you die slowly, you pathetic excuse for a Magi." He pointed his finger at Jon. "I don't care how fast you are or how powerful your dagger is; you will only have time to make one move before we destroy you."

Jon smirked. Corman's face darkened even more as his threat did not elicit the response he wanted. He gestured angrily at Elyus and Job. They resumed their spell.

Ashford's apathy began to crack as worry began to seep in. I guess I really don't want to die. Damn it to the nine hells! How did I wind up in this predicament?

Ashford shot a nervous glance at Jon. He was standing perfectly still. His face showed no emotion as he studied the movements of the two Magi. Despite the situation, Ashford couldn't help but feel some admiration for this man.

This man really does have balls of steel. Ashford watched the two Magi prepare their spells. The length alone let him know it was 10th Tier spells all the way. Corman stood between the Magi with his arms folded across his chest. Ashford always did hate that arrogant bastard.

"What should we do?" Sophina whispered at him.

"Stand your ground and make sure nothing happens to Evelyn," Ashford whispered back.

"How am I suppose to fight magic?" she replied, her voice almost hysterical.

"Don't worry about any of that," Jon interrupted. "This ends now."

"Yes it does," Corman agreed. He gestured with his fingers. Elyus and Job stopped chanting, and in the same precise movement, threw their hands out.

Ashford paled as he recognized the rune that flashed on their palm. Daggers of Flame! God help us!

From the silver rune on each of their right hands, thin and deadly daggers of fire shot out in a deadly spray. It was one of the most advanced spells known to the Magi. Each dagger of flame was capable of penetrating 6th Tier protection spells and was known to batter down 10th Tier protections in a matter of seconds.

Ashford heard Sophina scream. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her dive over Evelyn's unconscious body. He had no one to sacrifice himself for; he could only watch helplessly as several daggers shot straight at him.

Something flashed in front of him, moving at an incredible speed. The flaming daggers were not making it to him. Jon Laurent was stopping them.

Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? 

Jon's dagger shone from tip to hilt with silver runes. Each dagger of flame disappeared as it struck the Shadow Dagger. Jon's hands flashed in front of each flame in a speed that should have been impossible.

Ashford realized suddenly that Jon had been toying with Daminus and him earlier.

Who is this man?

The daggers of flame stopped coming. Elyus and Job were hunched over, breathing heavily. A very intense silence fell over everyone in Ashford's stone kitchen.

Corman stared at Jon in disbelief. "Impossible..." he muttered. "You blocked...two 10th Tier spells?"

Jon sheathed his dagger. Ashford almost backed away from the look that painted his face. Death was written there.

"My turn," Jon said, power filling his voice.

Ashford fell to his knees in shock. It's not possible...

Jon's eyes glowed silver.

***

"Raynolt? Can you hear me? Oh, please wake up! Please!"

Raynolt tried to respond but his mouth wouldn't move. His head felt like it was stuffed with wool. The voice begging him to wake up was coming from a long way away; it was almost as if he were in a tunnel and the voice was echoing from the other end.

What happened? What's going on? He tried to recall what happened but only silence filled his mind. In fact, he didn't have any memories that he could call up. All he knew was his name.

Yes...my name is Raynolt Teryus. It is a very powerful name. He remembered that much. His name was practically synonymous with power and respect.

"Raynolt, you have to wake up! Please, we can't do this without you!"

The voice was nagging him again. Why did he have to wake up? Nobody ordered around Raynolt Teryus, he remembered suddenly.

"You can't let anybody else claim your rightful spot! You have to wake up because the Emporium needs you! You were going to change everything!"

The voice was on to something. Yes...he had something very important to do. The Emporium? That sounded familiar...

Images came back to him then. He saw a small boy filled with laughter and joy as he successfully cast his first spell. The boy's eyes shone with wonder and pride. His mother was practically in tears and his father gave him a respectful nod.

The image slipped away before he could grasp the importance of it. Another image floated up through the void he currently inhabited. 

He saw a young teenager beam with pride as his parents watched him become the youngest candidate ever to pass the 1st Tier test and become a full-fledged member of the Guild of Magi. The entire Magi council, masters from every Tier, were on their feet and clapping.

The image shattered like shards of glass. The next slammed into his brain, searing his soul with its torment.

He watched in horror as a young man wept in his room over the death of his parents in the War of the Desert. Grand Master Boltus was there, comforting him. Boltus...the man who ordered his parents to fight on the frontlines; the man who received his orders from King Reynar.

This image lingered and faded slowly as if to taunt him. It was only a prelude to even greater tragedy.

Rage filled him as he saw his beloved wife fucking a non-Magi in an alley behind their favorite tavern. A non-Magi! Nobody was ever able to find her body. He seethed with murderous rage as the memories of scorn and suspicion from his fellow Magi fell upon him.

He felt grim satisfaction as he watched an older man take out his frustrations on a non-Magi woman. He felt power for the first time that day. He plunged his cock repeatedly into an inferior creature; an act banned by the Emporium and one his wife had committed years before. But they were blind and didn't know what he did. And knowledge was power.

One last memory flooded back to him. It was his destruction of the Grand Master. It was the birthplace of a legend.

Raynolt Teryus opened his eyes.

***

Sophina looked up from Evelyn's body, surprised that she wasn't dead. Everyone in the room was frozen in place. Ashford was on his knees, staring in disbelief at Jon. The three Magi wore similar expressions.

Corman broke the silence. "No...no, that's impossible! You are a Magi Victus! You cannot control magic!"

Sophina stood up slowly, gathering her wits. She sensed that the balance of power had tilted their direction. She didn't know what was going on but she prayed to the God to let her get out of this alive so she could take care of Evelyn.

"Watch me," Jon replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Sophina had never heard such power in a voice before. She gripped the hilt of her sword tightly and straddled Evelyn's body. Whatever was about to happen she was going to make sure nothing happened to Evelyn.

Jon stretched out his right hand toward the Magi on the right and his left hand toward the Magi on the left. Something must be happening because the Magi tensed. Corman yelled angrily at his companions, "No, you fools, leave the barrier! He is going to attack me!"

The other two Magi gave each other fearful looks but nodded their heads in agreement. They began chanting and weaving their fingers through the air.

Sophina gasped as the air around the two Magi suddenly shimmered. The Magi's faces paled with fear. The shimmer shrunk and wrapped around the two Magi, pinning their arms to the side. To Sophina's eyes it looked like the Magi were trapped behind one of those heat mirages in the desert.

Ashford staggered to his feet. "What is that?" he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

"The end," Jon replied. He curled his hands into fists. The air around the trapped Magi collapsed inward with tremendous force. 

The Magi's bodies literally exploded with a sickening crunch. Sophina threw her arms in front of her face as blood and flesh and shattered bone flew across the room. Sophina held back a sudden urge to vomit and lowered her arms.

Corman was covered from head to toe in the blood and intestines of his comrades. His eyes looked dazed and unbelieving.

Ashford spoke into the stillness of the room. "Never in my life...I...I..." 

He seemed unable to find the word to express his amazement. He turned to Sophina and looked at her helplessly. She shrugged her shoulders. The business of the Magi was beyond her comprehension.

Jon pulled his Shadow Dagger from its sheath. "I believe you said I could not kill you with my dagger. Care to change your mind Corman?"

Corman blinked several times as though he were trying to find solid ground to stand on. He opened his mouth several times but could not find the words. Sophina was reminded of a fish she saw in a pond when she was a girl.

Finally Corman found the words he was looking for. "I...I still have my 10th Tier shield. I would like to see you try—"

Jon whipped his arm out so fast that Sophina barely saw a blur. There was a tremendous flash of light that nearly blinded her. White spots swam across her vision. She rubbed her eyes and blinked vigorously. The spots faded.

Corman was on the ground. Sophina walked hesitantly forward and stopped when she saw the dagger sticking out from his forehead. The dagger was buried all the way to the hilt. Corman's eyes were rolled up so far into the sockets that they only showed white.

"He's dead," she said, turning back toward Jon and Ashford. 

Ashford walked over and stared down at the body. He looked over at Jon. "You hurled your dagger and broke through his 10th protection spell as though it was paper. Who in the nine hells are you?"

Jon ignored the question and walked over to the body. He squatted down and checked Corman's pulse. Sophina thought that was odd; the man was most certainly dead. But she was not stupid enough to say anything to this man.

Finally satisfied, Jon yanked the dagger from Corman's skull. He cleaned the blood off on Corman's robe and sheathed it back on his hip. He looked up at Sophina and Ashford. "Time to go," he said.

"Go? Do you mean go with you?" Ashford asked. His hands shook nervously.

Jon stared at him for several seconds before replying. "Unfortunately, it seems we are all caught up in this mess. We have to stick together until it's over."

"But I—"

Jon cut him off angrily. "We don't have time to stand here discussing this! As far as we know, Raynolt could be sending more Magi soon. So shut up and do as I say and you might live out the night."

Ashford clenched his jaw and wisely held his tongue. Jon pointed at Sophina. "You, woman, I need you—"

"My name is Sophina," she cut in, taking off her helmet and dropping it to the floor. She gasped and blushed red as she realized what she just did. It was an old reflex from her days in the Astuarian army whenever a commanding officer would address her as 'woman.'

She waited nervously for Jon to unsheathe his dagger. Instead, he surprised her by smiling. She saw a flash of white from inside the darkness of his hood; it gave her the mental image of a lion smiling at its prey.

"Sophina," he began, tipping his head at her, "I need you to carry Evelyn. Can you handle that? You might want to remove some of that armor."

She shook her head. "No, I can manage with it."

He nodded. "Let's go." 

He turned toward the door but stopped when Ashford called out. "Wait! What about Daminus' body? We just can't leave it here. He was my friend and her soul-mate," he finished, pointing at Evelyn's unconscious body.

Sophina could sense a cold chill emanating from the shadowed hood. "Leave him," he commanded. "We don't have time to see to his burial."

He turned to leave. Ashford opened his mouth angrily but Sophina cut him off. "I wouldn't do that," she whispered. 

Ashford glared at her angrily. Sophina stared right back. He finally sighed and shook his head. "Let me help you with her," he offered.

They draped Evelyn's arms around each of their necks and carried her between them.

***

"Raynolt, I don't think this is wise," Morgana said.

Raynolt ignored her and continued to slowly dress himself. He shook his head at his own foolishness. He couldn't believe he opened himself to the magic when he was so physically frail. He had let his own ego get in the way. A child knew not to try to use magic when the body is weak and recovering from injury.

"It has to be done, Morgana," he said once he finished dressing. "I need to be the one to tell the rest of the council of Boltus' death. It is vital to my plans."

"I know, but I don't like it. You almost lost your mind, Raynolt. You were on the very edge of becoming a mindless, drooling man-child."

She shrieked when Raynolt's backhand caught her across the cheek. It was shriek of surprise more than pain; he barely had the strength to lift his hand, let alone put any force behind it. No, it was more symbolic than harmful. It was a demonstration of his power.

She rubbed her cheek sullenly as he turned to Lenard. "Has word been sent?

The red-haired Magi nodded. "Yes. I believe the council is already in the Hall and most of the Magi in the city will be here within minutes. We are too use to this sort of thing, lately. Nobody will be surprised that there have been more deaths."

"Oh, they are going to be surprised at this," Raynolt muttered. He held out his hand and Morgana stepped up next to him. He rested his hand on her forearm and let her lead him out of the room.

They walked slowly down the hallway toward the Hall of Mages. Raynolt felt some strength begin to return to his legs.

I can turn my weakness into an advantage... "Lenard?"

"Yes, Master Teryus?"

"Has Sanje delivered the package?" He winced as his knee almost buckled under him. Morgana steadied him and gave him an I-told-you-so look. He ignored it.

"Let me check," Lenard replied. He turned down a different hallway.

Morgana took the opportunity to speak her mind. "I don't know why you trust him so, Raynolt. Very little is known of his past. He showed up at the Emporium as a fully grown adult. He could be a spy. He has the look of the Raves if you ask me."

Raynolt chuckled. "Oh Morgana, does your jealously know no bounds?"

"I am not jealous!" she snapped. The bloom of red in her cheeks gave away her lie. "I am looking out for you. Can Lenard say the same?"

"I have my reasons, Morgana. Let's leave it at that."

Morgana settled into an affronted silence. Raynolt didn't care; he preferred the silence. He focused his concentration on what to say to the assembly.

Lenard stepped out of the hallway several feet down from them. He pushed a black-clothed bundle in front of him.

Raynolt smiled. "Ah, I see Sanje delivered on his end of the promise." He stopped and studied the stranger who was bound and gagged. He was an older man; his hair was more grey than brown. He wore nothing but black clothing and had an empty sheath on his hip.

Raynolt suppressed a flash of irritation. The man was supposed to have his Shadow Dagger. Damn you and your secrets Sanje! You just made my job harder.

No Magi had ever recovered one of the legendary Shadow Daggers from the corpse of a Magi Victus. Supposedly, if anyone but the owner of the Shadow Dagger touched it, they would die a most painful death. The Magi Victus were very good at removing it from their fallen despite this precaution.

That legend is probably false anyways. How else could they take the Shadow Dagger before we could find it?

He motioned Lenard to move the prisoner down the hallway. They made faster progress as more strength returned to Raynolt.

They could hear the hum of hundreds of voices as they came up to the Hall. Everyone fell silent as Raynolt's entourage walked in. He smiled as he heard gasps from the Magi. They recognized his prisoner.

Raynolt continued up the podium alone while Lenard and Morgana flanked him at the bottom. Lenard shoved the prisoner to the middle of the floor.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 04



Raynolt raised his arms to quiet the crowd. His arms quivered embarrassingly and he quickly dropped them.

Damn you Boltus! This should have been my moment of strength. No matter; I will make do with what I have.

The crowd fell silent. The room was mostly full. The council members, what was left of them, sat in the front row. Raynolt saw hundreds of pairs of eyes constantly flick toward the prisoner.

"My brothers and sisters, I have the most terrible news that the Emporium has ever heard."

He stopped and let the moment build. Everyone was focused on him. He could feel a strange tickling sensation race through his body. The power of the moment almost overwhelmed him then and there. He suppressed a smile.

Instead, he put on a mask of intense sorrow. "A battle has been fought here tonight; a battle I have longed warned you about. The Magi Victus have fired the first arrow of war. They have assassinated the Grand Master Boltus."

Screams of anger and denial roared through the room. Magi were on their feet and yelling at the top of their lungs. Several of the Magi had silver eyes glowing. More than a few were shooting murderous glares at the prisoner.

Raynolt let them yell for several long moments before raising his arms once more. This time his arms did not shake.

"I was there, my friends. The Grand Master invited me to his office to discuss my proposal about the war with the Magi Victus. When I approached his office, I heard the most terrible sounds of battle coming from within."

The crowd was drawn into his story. He could see all eyes focused on him. Nobody made a sound.

"I reached the office too late," he continued. He stopped and choked back a fake sob. He heard weeping in some sections of the benches. "I...my fellow Magi, I don't know how to explain it. The Grand Master was beset by three Magi Victus. And yet I arrived in time to witness Boltus incinerate two of them with one spell!"

He heard gasps of awe and more weeping. He hated having to make Boltus appear powerful, but it made his tale more believable. "Unfortunately, the spell took all of his strength and concentration. His protection spell weakened enough for this cowardly bastard to stab him in the back," he finished, pointing at the prisoner.

The Magi stood on their feet again and began hurling insults at the bound prisoner. The man had his head down. Raynolt couldn't see his expression from here. I wonder if he is afraid.

"This filthy demon noticed my entrance. We dueled and he managed to puncture my shoulder. I was able to still cast the Wall of Flame with my one good hand. He was not fast enough. He is just a pile of ash along with half of the Grand Master's office. And, of course, he somehow managed to take his Shadow Dagger with him into death."

Raynolt cursed Sanje in his head. He had been counting on presenting a Shadow Dagger to the council to strengthen his case. He hoped he still had enough sway to accomplish his goal.

Halas Winstrum, the 8th Tier Master, stood up. "Do you mean to tell us that you called up a Wall of Flame with one hand?"

The crowd fell silent to hear his answer. Raynolt raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, of course." They are always amazed at my power. I just won't tell them who I really cast the spell at.

A murmur of astonishment swept through the room. Halas looked at Raynolt in wonder. "That is...very impressive, Raynolt. I hope that bastard died painfully."

Raynolt suppressed a smile. It seemed the feat he accomplished made up for the loss of the Shadow Dagger. "Thank you, Halas. And now I have more sad news to impart this night."

People were shaking their heads and bracing themselves for another blow. This blow was one Raynolt had not planned. "It seems that the Grand Master was not the first victim tonight. On their way through the Emporium, they must have encountered Darrius Northwood."

A grief-filled silence slowly filled the room. The council members shook their heads sadly. Darrius was the 5th Tier Master and was therefore a council member. 

Halas looked around at his fellow council members and stood up. "Raynolt, has anything happened to Daminus?"

The seat on the council row where Daminus would sit was conspicuously empty. He was the second most powerful council member, next to Raynolt.

Nine hells! Corman and the others should have been back by now. "I am not aware of any danger to Daminus. However, I will send Lenard to investigate immediately." He nodded down at Lenard, who immediately left the Hall.

"Once Daminus is located, the 5th Tier must quickly elect a new master so that the council can appoint a new Grand Master. We can not give the Magi Victus any more opportunity to inflict damage. By the laws of this kingdom, only the King and Grand Master of the Guild of Magi can take military action against a country or group."

If it was silent before, the Hall was deafening now. This time Raynolt let himself smile as the will of the crowd was overwhelmingly for war.

*** 

Jon kept to the shadows as he led his makeshift group of companions to the quarter of the city that was scathingly referred to as "Beggar's Hell." He checked the streets to make sure it was deserted before he let the group move on.

Ashford offered his opinions once or twice about what he thought of their destination. Sophina said nothing; she just concentrated on making sure Evelyn was held securely in her grasp. It must have been a strong punch; Evelyn had been unconscious for over an hour now.

At last they arrived at the building he was looking for. It was surrounded by abandoned buildings and was home to countless beggars. The house he walked toward didn't appear to be in any better shape than its neighbors.

"This is where you are taking us?" Ashford asked incredulously. "You don't really expect me to stay there, do you?"

Jon turned around. "Would you prefer if I escort you back to your house? Or maybe to the Emporium?"

Ashford turned red in the light of the moon. Jon saw Sophina smile and wink. He returned the smile. "Just lead the way," Ashford replied sarcastically.

When they approached the door a beggar stepped out from the shadows next to the house. Jon felt Ashford and Sophina tense behind him. He held up his hand. "Marcus," he said to the beggar.

Marcus walked into the moonlight. At first glance he appeared to be an average beggar. His clothes were old and dirty. His long grey hair fell to his waist and a thick beard covered his face. His stench was almost overpowering. He knew Ashford and Sophina would dismiss him immediately.

They would be wrong. The moonlight reflected in his startlingly clear-blue eyes as he spoke. "Mr. Laurent, I had a feeling you would be here this evening. This is a bloody night. I went to sleep hoping the God would grant me dreams of beautiful women in my bed but instead I dreamed of rivers of blood and bone and could not sleep. Your work?"

"Some," Jon replied. "I need to do know the situation in this city."

Marcus looked beyond Jon and spotted his three companions. His eyes widened fearfully. He shrank back into the shadows. "I will find what it is you are looking for," he said, his voice echoing from the darkness that hid him. "But you must bring the payment. The payment, ok Master Laurent? I need the payment. The dreams are getting worse."

"I won't forget the payment," Jon replied quietly. He glanced back at his new companions. Ashford had a disgusted look on his face and Sophina looked bewildered. Jon turned back. "What is it Marcus? Why do you fear them?"

The man didn't answer. Jon sighed and walked up the steps to the front door. He turned the handle when Marcus spoke. "They are your sailors."

His voice held more madness than it usually did. That was when Jon paid the most attention. "What do you mean by 'my sailors'?"

"They work the sails. You steer the boat."

"Where do we sail Marcus? What is our destination?"

Marcus laughed. It raised the hair on Jon's arms. "I don't know...I don't know. It's hard to see. Too much blood. But I can see that you don't sail the sea. No, no, no, not the sea, not the sea."

"What? What do we sail on?" Jon prompted when Marcus fell silent.

"The fires of hell!" was the mad response. "The fires of hell! Don't you get it? I have seen rivers of fire and blood and you are the captain! The captain, Jon! All hands on deck! Man overboard! His flesh is cracking and peeling!" 

Jon heard him laugh hysterically as he shuffled away. He opened the door and walked in. He waited until Ashford and Sophina crossed the threshold before he closed the door.

"Ok, what in the nine hells was that? And who the hell was that?" Ashford demanded.

"Just a beggar," Jon replied evasively. "And a mad one at that. This way," he said, pointing across the filthy living room.

Ashford walked gingerly across the floor as he continued to support Evelyn. The floor was carpeted with dust and broken bits of furniture. There were stairs to the right but those were collapsed in a pile of wood. The walls were falling apart. He could hear mice underfoot.

"What a lovely house you have, Master Laurent," Ashford said as Jon led them to the far wall of the living room. "I was thinking about getting one. Do you recommend any of the derelict buildings in this neighbor?"

"Oh shut up," Sophina snapped. She hefted Evelyn into a better position. "You should be thankful that you are alive."

"I would rather be dead," he replied, but quietly.

Jon ignored them as he scanned the brick wall in front of him. It was the only part of the house made from brick. He slid his hands across the wall, feeling his way. It should be around here somewhere...

"What are you doing? Have you lost your mind like your friend Marcus—"

Ashford snapped his mouth shut as there was a loud click. The wall shook and dust rained down from the ceiling. Jon rubbed his hands in satisfaction as the wall began to slide down into the floor, revealing a staircase that lead down into a dark passageway.

"Were you saying something?" he asked Ashford.

Ashford glared at him and mumbled something under his breath. Jon motioned them to follow as he made his way down the stairs. Light flared up the stairs as Jon put his foot down on the first step.

"Mage light," Ashford whispered from behind. "I shouldn't be surprised after that little show you put on earlier, but I still am."

Jon didn't reply as they continued their descent down into the earth. He reached the bottom and turned around to capture the reaction of the two following him.

"I'll be damned," Sophina said, awe-struck.

It was another house underneath the ruins of the house above. They were in his living room. Mage light shone down from the ceiling and illuminated his prized possessions. Various ancient pieces of weaponry and armor hung on the wall. Comfortable chairs surrounded a black-stoned fireplace. The rug under his feet was very old and very expensive. A hallway led further into the underground dwelling.

"You can set her down now," Jon told Sophina.

She blinked, tore her gaze away from the unexpected luxury of the room, and motioned Ashford to walk over to a nearby chair. They set her down carefully and stepped back, suddenly unsure of what to do now.

Jon motioned them to a circle of chairs surrounding the fireplace. They sat down gratefully. Ashford let out a sigh and began rubbing his calf muscles. Sophina rubbed her hands over her face. A mountain-weight of tension slid off their shoulders.

Jon felt an old pain as he watched them settle in. He walked to a nearby cupboard to get some wine and to clear his thoughts. He had just been forcibly reminded of Berrick, Sarah, and Jocelyn. He hadn't thought of them in years and he wanted to keep it that way.

He grabbed a bottle of his favorite wine, three glasses, and walked back over to the group. He poured each of them a glass full of wine and moved over to the fireplace. He grabbed the spare firewood next to the fireplace and quickly lit it with flint and tinder. He settled down in his chair and poured himself a glass of wine.

"I have to admit it, I am impressed," Ashford said. "Nobody would bother to look twice for this place. I assume that fireplace runs up through the walls to the roof?"

Jon nodded and sipped his wine. His thoughts were elsewhere. Three companions again. I hate coincidence. This has the God's smell all over it.

"You aren't much of a conversationalist, are you?" Ashford asked sarcastically.

"No," Jon replied.

Sophina laughed into her wine and started coughing. Ashford shot her a glare but she was too busy catching her breath. 

"I am not the one to talk tonight, Ashford," Jon continued once Sophina regained her equilibrium. "I need to know what I am caught up in."

"What we are caught up in," Sophina added. Jon raised his glass to her in acknowledgement.

Ashford sighed and placed his glass on the table in front of him. He leaned back in his chair and looked wearily over at Jon.

"I have already told this tale to Daminus tonight and I really don't feel like going into it again. Suffice it to say, I believe Raynolt intends to assassinate King Reynar."

"What?" Sophina asked incredulously. "Assassinate King Reynar? But why would...how...what does this have to do with you?"

"It's a long story, Sophina. I don't care to get into it right now. I am very tired. But to satisfy your curiosity, my life and the life of my friends were bound to King Reynar magically. As long as we lived, nobody could ever touch him."

Jon leaned forward in his chair, intrigued despite his reluctance to get drawn in. "Magically bound? What do you mean?"

Ashford eyed Jon with a speculative look in his eyes. Jon knew what was coming. "Ok, I see I will have to tell my story again. But before I do, I want to know what happened tonight," Ashford replied, staring intently at Jon.

"What do you mean, what happened tonight?" Sophina asked. "I saw it just as clearly as you did. Jon killed those Magi without breaking a sweat."

"That's not the issue, Sophina," Ashford replied, never taking his eyes off Jon. "Mr. Laurent killed two 10th Tier Magi with magic."

Sophina looked at Jon, confusion painting her face. "So? What's the big deal?"

Ashford sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "What are they teaching you people nowadays?"

Sophina blushed red and replied angrily, "I am well educated, I will have you know. I am not some country pumpkin who thought it would be an adventure to sign up with the Astuarian army."

Jon spoke before Ashford could, knowing the Magi would probably make the situation worse. "I don't think Ashford meant to insult your upbringing, Sophina. The knowledge of magic and the Magi Victus aren't well known, despite what the Magi believe."

Ashford snorted. "The history of the Magi is a history of Astuari. Every child should know this."

"Then I suggest you start from the beginning," Jon replied.

"The beginning?" Ashford asked.

"The very beginning," Jon said. "I think you and Sophina would both get something out of a little history lesson."

"Very well," Ashford sighed. Sophina nodded her thanks to Jon.

Jon hid a smile behind his wine glass. How very much like Sarah she is. He grimaced at the memory of a raven-haired woman laughing in delight as they rode their horses over the Segundi plains.

"Nearly three thousand years ago, the world balanced on the brink of destruction," Ashford began. "The city and country of Astuari back then was nowhere near what it is today. It was a fractured country ruled by dozens of warlords. I imagine it resembled something from the nine hells."

"What do you mean?" Sophina asked. She was sitting on the edge of the seat with a shine in her eyes.

A warrior woman with a thirst for knowledge? Jon mused.

"The whole world at that time was full of the vilest sins you could think of," Ashford elaborated. "Warlords were constantly raiding each other's cities. Women were raped, children were beaten to death, and opposing soldiers were frequently burned alive in huge bonfires. The warlords worshipped their own gods, abandoning the faith of the God."

"And this was the way of life. The people grew use to it. It didn't matter if they were the perpetrators or the victims; everyone succumbed to the darkness one way or the other."

"It couldn't have been that bad," Sophina said skeptically.

"We have reliable information from that period of time," Ashford replied evasively, waving his hand. "Anyways, the God was sickened by what humanity had become and the false gods that they worshipped. He was about to turn His back on the world and start over somewhere else. He was beginning to regret His decision to give humanity free will."

"And then?" Sophina prompted when Ashford fell silent. Jon had to give Ashford credit; he was a master story-teller. Jon already knew all this but was still intrigued by Ashford's story.

"And then came the Order of 12," Ashford said.

"I know them!" Sophina interrupted excitedly. "They were the founders of the Emporium. See Ashford, I am not the uneducated dunce you take me for."

Ashford rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are correct; though they didn't found the Emporium until much later. No, at first they didn't even know each other existed. In the height of human decadence, 12 individuals all over the country decided to stand up and fight back against the corruption of man. They were devout to the God when everyone else abandoned their faith."

"The God was intrigued as he watched these 12 individuals began having an effect on the people around them. Each of them quickly gathered up large groups of people who had enough with what the world had become. They wanted change. They wanted to be able to plant crops and not have to worry if they would be able to harvest them the next season. They didn't want to have to worry if their sons and daughters would take up with the warlords or become their victims."

"Because life was on the brink of destruction and they felt it. Money had no purpose because you killed to get what you wanted. There was no centralized government; no one to go to when there was injustice. All you had were the Warlords and you never wanted to pay the price they demanded."

"But then came 12 ordinary people who changed the world. They came from all walks of life; a farmer, a nobleman, a blacksmith, a poor merchant, a thief, a soldier, a mother of 2 Warlords, one of the few remaining knights, a whore, a scribe, a butcher, and a mercenary. Each one of these people decided they had enough, all for different reasons."

"And they began to talk to other people. And these people listened to what they said. Indeed, they were moved by the passion of their plea. Before the Warlords knew what happened, 12 people had gathered armies around themselves; armies that were willing to fight and die for what they believed. That belief made them strong."

"A new war was fought; a war to end the warlords' reign and to bring the world back from the brink of destruction. But the warlords were very skilled in battle and not easy to defeat. The God saw this and knew the outcome would be disastrous if He didn't interfere. So he summoned the 12 in their dreams to the Fields of Summer."

"The 12 led their battered and war-weary armies to the Fields. And the warlords rejoiced, thinking they had defeated the 12. Thus did the 12 gather for the first time. And each of the 12 saw a brother or sister in one another, for they were bound by the same grief and the same desire."

"The armies joined together and threw a huge feast. The 12 wandered off by themselves to discuss strategy. It was then that a deep fog rose up and cut them off from their army. They did not panic because the fog filled them with such peace and longing. They breathed in the fog and wept quietly."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 04



"After a time, a voice filled their minds. The voice told them that it was the one true God; the God that the world had abandoned. He told them that He was moved by their faith in midst of such adversity. He had decided when he spoke the words of creation that he would not interfere. He gave humanity free will to shape the world as they saw fit. All he asked in return was their love."

"He told them 'It is because of you that I have seen my error. I will give the world one last chance. To each of you I give a part of my essence. With your words will you speak the language of creation and with your hands you will shape the words and bring that which did not exist into being. My children, I give to you a small portion of my power; not to interfere, but to guide, as I should have done.'"

"'But only to you 12 will this power be granted. And through your bloodlines shall it be maintained. Let only a blessed-man and a blessed-woman mate to carry your bloodlines and the power contained within. Any child born of a union between the blessed and non-blessed shall be an abomination in my eyes. They will be cursed by my power and live only half-lives. They will be neither of the blessed or the non-blessed. They will be outcasts.'"

"'My power shall only be preserved in the blood of those who were faithful. I will be watching, always.'"

Ashford paused and wet his throat with a sip of wine. Sophina had a faraway look in her eyes. "So the power of the Magi comes from God," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Ashford nodded. "It is the power of creation."

"So what happened after the God spoke to them?"

"They returned to the camps. The people instantly knew something happened. For the 12 saw with silver eyes and spoke with silver breath. They spoke only the language of God. Every movement and every word was an act of creation. The camps were chaos for several weeks before the 12 came back to their senses."

"Once they realized what happened, they marched the armies. The warlords were no match for the very first Magi, which in the language of God means 'faithful.' They quickly brought the country to its knees. The ripples of their actions were felt across oceans, across the world! Order was restored. A new era of humanity had begun."

They fell silent and listened to the crackling of the fire. Sophina spoke first. "And the Magi Victus...now I know why they are called abominations. They are the offspring of a Magi and non-Magi parent, aren't they?"

Ashford stared at Jon. Jon swirled the wine around his glass and watched the ripples. So many ripples descending from the Fields of Summer...

"Yes," Ashford replied. "They are abominations of the God's will. They are filled with the same magical energy that the Magi are. But they cannot speak creation and cannot physically alter reality. They can only manipulate the magic within them. That is where their speed and strength comes from. They have fine-tuned this ability over generations to where not even the Magi can duplicate it."

Sophina stared openly at Jon. "What about your Shadow Dagger?"

Jon smiled coldly. He slipped his dagger out. Ashford and Sophina tensed, their eyes riveted on the dagger. Jon flipped the dagger in the air and caught it by the handle. The price we pay for power.

Ashford and Sophina sighed in unison when Jon sheathed the dagger again. Ashford turned his head toward Sophina. "That is our greatest shame; we do not know how the Magi Victus created those...those monstrosities."

"How were the Magi Victus created?" Sophina asked.

"It was a gradual process," Jon cut in. "The offspring were usually seized and burned. However, some determined parents managed to hide their child. Over time, a rather large group of 'abominations' were drawn to each other. They were outcasts; children who were constantly running for their lives. Eventually, they had enough. They wanted justice."

"Justice?" Ashford cut in angrily. "They are nothing more than murderers!"

"Who made us that way?" Jon whispered. "We just wanted to have normal lives. And we found that in the Magi Victus. Soon our goal became one of justice. We noticed that the Magi were rapidly expanding. Power was shifting to those that could remake the world as they saw fit. This was against the God's will. So we took the God's will into our hands."

"And the first Magi Victus war had begun," Ashford said to Sophina. "Do you know what Magi Victus means in the ancient language? It means 'killers of the faithful.'"

"It was the Magi who gave us that name," Jon said to Sophina. "They meant to taunt us with it. Instead, we embraced it. We won the war and reached an agreement with the King and Grand Master. If they would limit each Magi couple to one child, then we would scale back our war."

"It was a deal made by the worst King and Grand Master in our history," Ashford replied angrily. "And it's a deal that is about to be torn up."

Jon nodded. "I don't doubt it. And I don't know what game Sanje is playing. But I intend to find out."

A heavy silence filled the room. Sophina finally broke the silence. "Jon, how is it that you used magic? Is that a secret the Magi Victus have kept hidden?"

Jon shook his head. "No, Ashford is right about us. We are cursed."

"You didn't answer the question," Ashford said.

"And I never will," Jon replied. "I am something of a unique case and that's all I am going to say."

"Damn you!" Ashford spat. He stood up and loomed over Jon. "How is it that you joined the Magi Victus? I thought they had some kind of test! We have tried in the past to plant our own moles in the organization but they always turned up dead."

"Yes, they have tests to determine if you are a half-blood." Jon drained his wine and set his cup down. He looked up at Ashford, who was plainly waiting for him to elaborate. He didn't.

"Well?" Ashford snapped. "How were you not discovered?"

"I passed, obviously," Jon replied lightly.

"How?" Ashford screamed.

"Because I am a half-breed," Jon replied, as though addressing a child.

Ashford roared in frustration and flung his glass across the room. The glass shattered on the wall. He stood over Jon, his cheat heaving. Jon stared back at him quietly. Ashford looked away at the cold death in his eyes and sat back down.

Sophina cleared her throat, trying to break the tension. "So...umm...how is magic performed, exactly?"

Ashford sighed. "Magic is composed of two parts; vocalization and manipulation. First, all Magi must study and learn the ancient language. This isn't as easy as it sounds. Thousands of words have different meanings, depending on the pronunciation. It is a very, very subtle language."

"The first thing we are taught to do is to open ourselves up to the magical energy. Our bloodline is the key that allows us to do this. This takes a long time to master. It is a very tempting power to abuse. We must be disciplined enough or it will rush through our veins like acid. We also cannot be afraid of the power or it will never respond to our commands."

"Once we master the self-discipline needed, we must concentrate on the spell we want to perform. As I said earlier, the language of creation is so subtle that a spell can be accomplished in an infinite number of ways. Every Magi's spells are unique because of the subtle variations in pronunciation and manipulation."

"What is manipulation?" Sophina asked.

"Manipulation is the process of shaping the words to bring it into reality. We do this with intricate finger movements. These finger movements are just as subtle as the spoken language. Basically, we are writing the words we are speaking into the air. We are manipulating reality."

"It sounds...complicated," Sophina said.

"You have no idea," Ashford replied. "The more powerful spells take more words to create and, conversely, take more finger movements to shape. Now once you have enough experience, you can perform the incantations and finger movements of lesser spells in your mind. The harder spells are too complex to visualize mentally."

Sophina frowned. "Was that spell Jon used to kill those two Magi complex?"

Ashford looked troubled. "Yes, very complex. I have never seen that spell. Why do you ask?"

"Well...I am not sure what I am looking for, obviously, but it looked like to me that Jon didn't say anything or move his fingers at all."

Ashford looked at her as though he saw a ghost. He turned and looked at Jon. "Impossible," he breathed. "She's right. You visualized that spell. How?"

Jon glanced at Ashford and then Sophina. "Practice," he said simply.

Ashford hung his head as Sophina roared in laughter. Jon smiled at her. Yes, she is very much like Sarah. How I miss her. Jon didn't know where that thought came from. But his heart felt lighter as he watched Sophina laugh.

Sophina wiped a tear away and asked, "So, what are the Tiers the Magi speak of?"

"Spells are classified into tiers, depending on the complexity of the spell. Also, Magi are grouped into Tiers, which represents the knowledge and power of that Magi. There are 10 Tiers in total. A Magi seeking to rise to another Tier must pass a test. And sometimes Magi are promoted based on accomplishments."

Sophina nodded her head. "That makes sense. It's sort of like a military command structure." She paused and then, sheepishly, asked Ashford, "So can I see a spell?"

Ashford smiled. "Oh, I don't know..."

"Let me show you," a voice said from behind. 

Jon sat up fast and pulled his dagger. Sophina spilled her wine as she shot up and pulled her sword.

Standing behind them was Evelyn, her eyes blazing silver. She pointed at Jon.

"Time to die, you bastard!"

The room exploded into shouts and spells of power.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 05



Sophina gasped as Evelyn muttered a few words and held out her hand. What looked like a dozen long, very sharp icicles shot out of her hand. They flew past Sophina's face and struck the wall where Jon had been standing a moment before. 

The icicles shattered into hundreds of pieces. Sophina covered her face as several shards of ice shattered on her armor. Several pieces pierced her flesh where the armor did not cover.

Sophina winced in pain and dropped her arms to survey the damage in the room. Ashford stood feet from her, panting in exhaustion. His eyes faded from silver back to their dark brown color. A puddle of water surrounded his feet. Sophina grunted in annoyance that he had magic to protect him and turned to look at Evelyn.Sophina gasped as Evelyn muttered a few words and held out her hand. What looked like a dozen long, very sharp icicles shot out of her hand. They flew past Sophina's face and struck the wall where Jon had been standing a moment before. 

The icicles shattered into hundreds of pieces. Sophina covered her face as several shards of ice shattered on her armor. Several pieces pierced her flesh where the armor did not cover.

Sophina winced in pain and dropped her arms to survey the damage in the room. Ashford stood feet from her, panting in exhaustion. His eyes faded from silver back to their dark brown color. A puddle of water surrounded his feet. Sophina grunted in annoyance that he had magic to protect him and turned to look at Evelyn.

She still had her hand outstretched as if she were frozen in place. His eyes were pinched with pain. Several rather large pieces of ice were protruding from her body. She had not bothered to protect herself from her own spell. Sophina felt her heart lurch with pity and took a step toward her.

"Don't move," Ashford warned. "She has warded the floor around her with very deadly magic."

Evelyn's red-rimmed eyes darted toward Ashford as he spoke. She was still in the same stance, her hand outstretched in the moment when she cast her spell. It finally dawned on Sophina that she must be bound with magic. Her suspicions were confirmed when Jon stepped up next to Sophina, his eyes blazing silver.

Jon stepped toward Evelyn. "Don't!' Ashford and Sophina screamed, both for very different reasons.

Jon ignored their pleas and continued to walk to her. He was several feet from her when a fire suddenly sprung from the floor to surround them both in a wide circle. Sophina gasped and stuck her hand out, as though she could grab Jon from so far away.

But wherever Jon stepped the fire shied away. He glanced down and studied the fire, his brows raised in surprise. He lowered his hand down by his waist, his palm facing the floor. He stared intently for several seconds before the flames puffed out. Steam suddenly filled the room, obscuring everything in a haze.

Sophina coughed into her hand and waved the steam from her face. She heard Ashford mutter something and the steam blew away. Jon was standing in front of Evelyn, his Shadow Dagger in his fist.

"No, don't!" Sophina screamed. She moved toward Jon, who held out his hand to toward Sophina without looking. Sophina screamed as she felt something invisible seize her body. Her arms and legs were pinned together. She couldn't even open her mouth to talk.

"Is that necessary?" Ashford asked angrily.

Jon turned toward Sophina and studied her face. Sophina glared at him. You bastard, if you harm one hair on her head, I will end you! Sophina felt tears sting her eyes. She had never felt so helpless in her life.

"Yes, I think it is necessary," Jon finally said. He turned back toward Evelyn.

Sophina could only watch helplessly. Please Ashford, do something! Help her! Her heart was hammering in her chest. She darted a glance sideways to look at Ashford. He was frowning at Jon's back but did not make a move to stop him. Sophina swore vengeance on him, too.

"Where did you learn that spell?" Jon asked, apparently speaking to Evelyn.

Sophina felt her fear give way to confusion. What does that matter?

Jon waved his hand and Evelyn's face seemed to unfreeze. But instead of answering, she spat in his face. Jon wiped his face with his sleeve but did not respond to her provocation in any other way, for which Sophina was supremely thankful.

Jon reached up and lowered the hood from his head. Sophina was surprised; he looked...common. He wasn't exactly young but he didn't appear to be that old either. His face was deeply tanned with just a few small wrinkles around his eyes. His hair was brown and cut short to his head, much like her haircut. He had a thick goatee that contained a small splash of grey on the chin. If Sophina had to guess, she would say he was 40 years old.

"I understand your pain," Jon said quietly, staring Evelyn in the eyes.

Evelyn's face twisted into a sneer. Sophina had never seen such an expression on her lovely face before. Oh Evelyn...

"You don't know the meaning of pain," she spat. "But you will find out before long. I swear it." She chocked back a sob and closed her eyes. Her body seemed to sag, held up only by the magical bonds.

"For what it's worth...I am sorry," Jon said, almost tenderly.

Sophina felt a jolt of shock run through her. She would have never imagined that voice coming from that man.

Evelyn didn't respond but continued to sag in her bonds. Jon stared at her for several moments before sheathing his dagger. He did not move but suddenly Evelyn collapsed to the floor. Sophina felt her arms and legs jerk; she had to take a step forward to keep from falling.

Jon turned to Sophina. He looked troubled. "Sophina, could you please grab Evelyn and follow me?"

Sophina didn't bother responding. She hurriedly made her way to Evelyn. She squatted down next to her. "Come on, Evelyn, let's go," she said somberly.

Evelyn didn't look up and didn't resist when Sophina pulled her arm. Sophina gently pulled her to her feet and flung her arm around her shoulders. Sophina held on to her hand and put her other arm around her waist.

Sophina frowned worriedly at Evelyn's complete unresponsiveness. Her eyes had a faraway look. Sophina had to half-carry her as Evelyn didn't seem inclined to move her feet.

Sophina studied the shards of ice sticking from Evelyn's body as they walked. They were large pieces but it didn't look like they penetrated too far into her skin. Evelyn was lucky to have been standing so far away from the impact.

The icicles in Sophina's body, however, had penetrated quite far into her flesh. She grimaced in pain as she carried Evelyn. She could feel pieces of ice around her armpit and by her knee. Shouldn't these damn things melt or something?

Jon led them down a hallway. Elaborate wall hangings and more weapons adorned the walls. Sophina would have loved to stop and examine everything but her concern for Evelyn outweighed her curiosity.

Jon stopped at a door on the left. He opened the door and let Sophina drag Evelyn inside. It was a bedroom with a huge four-poster bed and several ornate pieces of furniture. Sophina guided Evelyn to the bed and carefully dropped her on it.

"Remove your armor," Jon instructed. He walked to a cabinet by the bed and began rummaging inside. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and a pair of tongs.

Sophina grunted in pain as she undid the straps on her chestplate. She let it drop to the stone floor with a dull thud. Every movement she made seemed to dig the icicles in deeper. She had to take her time to take off the arm-guards.

"Stand still," Jon ordered once she finished. He walked around her in a circle, taking note of every piece of icicle. "There is no telling how many smaller shards there are. You will have to take off your clothes."

Sophina blushed. "What? Are you serious?"

Jon nodded. "I need to get every shard. This magical attack has minute traces of poison. If I don't get every single shard, it could eventually kill you."

Sophina's flush deepened. She looked around for a distraction and spotted Evelyn on the bed. She was lying motionless. Her embarrassment drained away as worry replaced it. "What about Evelyn?"

"I will let you handle that. This is a slow-working poison, so don't worry. Your clothes?" Jon nodded at her.

Sophina sighed and turned away from Jon. She grabbed her padded tunic and pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor. Now that she only had a simple wool tunic left, she hesitated.

Come on, Sophina. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I doubt if this man even has sexual feelings.

"The sooner the better, Sophina," Jon said from behind her, amusement plain in his voice. The man was enjoying this! Sophina gritted her teeth and pulled the tunic off. She immediately crossed her arm over her breasts before turning around.

Jon nodded at her legs. "I need you to take off everything. You have shards in your legs, as well."

If Sophina was blushing before, it was nothing compared to now. "You want me to get completely naked?"

"Yes," he replied simply.

Damn it! I swore I would never let another man see me naked. Sophina sighed in resignation. This had to be done. She turned back around and undid the straps on her steel leggings. She set them down next to her chestplate.

She felt her face flush with heat as she pulled down her padded trousers. She tried not to think that he now had a good view of her ass. She covered her breasts with one arm and covered the thatch of blonde pubic hair with her other hand.

"There is no need to be modest, Sophina. I will need to get under your arms. Don't worry, I seen naked women plenty of times." He smiled as he said it.

Sophina found that his amusement actually disarmed her modesty. She was too use to soldiers who looked lewdly at women. Sophina's arms shook nervously as she held them out.

Jon gave no sign that he enjoyed what he saw. His eyes narrowed in focus as he examined her body for shards. His disinterest in her nudity made her sigh in relief. She even let her body relax a little.

He stepped close to her, still examining her wounds. "This is going to hurt more than you think," he warned her.

Sophina nodded. "I am use to pain."

"Then get ready." He clamped the tongs on the largest piece of icicle, directly under her armpit. He slowly slid the shard of ice out. Sophina almost screamed at the sudden flash of pain. She had arrows that penetrated deeper in her flesh that didn't feel as bad as this.

Jon glanced up at her. "You still with me?"

Sophina nodded. Sweat beaded on her forehead and was trickling down her back. "Can't you pull it out faster?" she grunted.

He shook his head. "I have to make sure not to leave one fragment inside the skin." He clamped the tongs on another piece, just below her ribs. The pain doubled and this time Sophina couldn't hold back the scream.

"Is everything all right?" a voice asked in concern.

Sophina looked over and spotted Ashford in the doorway. She saw his eyes widen in shock. Her cheeks flushed with fury. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

Ashford fell back against the wall and quickly scrambled away. Jon chuckled as he extracted another piece of ice.

Nine hells! How many men are going to see me naked today?

The thought couldn't concern her for long as each shard of ice that Jon extracted increased the pain. Soon Sophina was weeping. Her skin felt on fire. Blood pour freely from the small holes in her skin. She felt feverish. The room began to sway before her eyes.

"Hang on Sophina," Jon told her. His voice helped her steady herself to consciousness.

He set down the tongs as the last remaining shards were too small. He used his fingers instead. They felt like icicles themselves as he touched her burning flesh.

Sophina tried every mental trick her sword trainer had taught her. She slipped in and out of the warrior trance. The pain would always flare up and shatter each trance. She focused on the memories of her mom singing a lullaby to her every night when she went to sleep. The pain lessened as the peaceful memories washed through her.

At last, Jon extracted the last shard from behind her knee. He grabbed the clear bottle and a rag. He dipped the rag in the liquid and began washing her wounds. The liquid stung but in a good way; it was the pain of healing.

After he finished washing her wounds, his eyes glowed silver. Sophina gasped as he laid his hands on her wounds. When his hands left, the wound was gone. Only the dried blood around the wound remained.

Sophina stared in awe. "That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen! Why didn't you do that from the beginning?"

"I only patched your skin together. I needed to remove the icicles and clean the infection. Otherwise, I would have only closed the flesh around the infection."

She nodded her thanks. The pain was gone. Her body was cooling down. She realized suddenly that she was still naked. "Can I get dressed now?" she asked, somewhat sheepishly.

He smiled. "Yes. And here," he added, handing her the bottle of clear liquid, "you can take care of Evelyn yourself. Just carefully pull the shards out and clean the wounds with this. I will come by later to heal the skin."

"Thank you," she said. She glanced over at Evelyn. "Will...will she attack me?"

Jon studied Evelyn silently for several moments before responding. "No, I don't believe she will trouble us from now on." He stared sadly at Evelyn.

"What do you mean?" Sophina asked worriedly.

He shook his head and smiled; it did not reach his eyes. "We can talk about that later." He left the room and closed the door behind him.

Sophina pulled on her trousers and wool tunic. She walked to the bed and sat down next to Evelyn's head. She reached out tentatively and stroked her face. "Evelyn? I am going to take care of you now, ok?"

Evelyn did not respond. Her eyes were open but they stared lifelessly. Sophina felt her heart clench in worry. What is wrong with her? What did Jon mean that she wouldn't trouble us from now on?

"I am going to undress you now, ok?"

Sophina waited for any type of response but was disappointed as Evelyn continued to stare at nothing. Sophina winced in sympathy as she examined the numerous shards of ice sticking out from her body. She took the hem of Evelyn's robe and very carefully started to push it up her legs.

When she got both the robe and the shift underneath pulled up to her waist, she stopped and blushed in embarrassment. She couldn't take her eyes off the thatch of brown hair between her pale thighs.

I need to get a hold of myself! There is nothing sexual about this...there is nothing sexual about this...there is nothing...

Sophina continued to repeat the mantra in her head as she sat Evelyn up on the bed. Her body was limp and surprisingly heavy. Once she got her into a sitting position against the headboard, she grabbed the robe from her waist and very gently began to pull it up over her head. She was careful not to snag any of the icicles on the cloth.

She dropped the robe to the floor and laid her down on the bed again. Despite her best intentions, Sophina felt heat sweep through her body as she examined Evelyn's nude body.

Her body was pale and creamy. Her breasts were heavy and sagged to the side of her chest. Her nipples were a dark red. Sophina felt her pussy began to moisten at the sight.

She gritted her teeth and refused to acknowledge her own arousal. She grabbed the pair of tongs that Jon left behind and clamped it on the largest piece she could find, which was buried in her shoulder. Remembering Jon's warnings about leaving any sliver of icicle behind, she began pulling it out with extreme patience.

As Sophina worked on removing the icicles, she lost herself in the work. She was no longer aroused at the sight of this beautiful woman's body. That is, until she came to the last shard she could find. It was a small piece that required her hands to pull out.

It was buried in her thigh, right next to her pussy.

Concentrate! This isn't some orgy! Her life is in my hands.

She reached out with a shaking hand and grasped the shard with her forefinger and thumb. Her pinky accidentally brushed against Evelyn's pussy. Sophina gasped and looked away.

Just do it already! Pull it out fast! Sophina took a deep breath and reached back out with her hand. She was careful not to accidentally touch her. She had just pulled out the shard when Evelyn moaned and shifted her legs.

Sophina shrieked as her knuckles collided with Evelyn's pussy. She pulled her hand away but was shocked as Evelyn's hand swooped out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist.

Sophina looked up at Evelyn. She was leaning on one elbow and had her eyes closed. Her grip on Sophina's wrist was tight.

"Daminus, don't go! I need you!" Tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes.

"Evelyn...it's me, Sophina. Daminus...is not here," Sophina breathed. Her heart was beating hard in her chest.

"I need you Daminus," Evelyn whispered, her eyes still closed. She pulled Sophina's hand toward her pussy.

Sophina was too shocked to offer resistance. "Evelyn, it's me! I'm not Daminus!"

Evelyn didn't respond. She didn't seem to know where she was. She brought Sophina's hand to her pussy and moaned as it made contact. "I need you inside of me," she gasped.

Sophina tried to tug her hand away but Evelyn's grip tightened painfully. "Daminus, please....please, I need you. Don't go...please..."

Sophina felt tears sting her eyes. "Oh Evelyn..." she whispered.

She extended her forefinger and slowly sunk it inside of Evelyn's pussy. Evelyn fell back against the bed and arched her back. Her pussy was moist as Sophina's finger slid in and out with no problem.

"That feels so good, my love," Evelyn purred. She was smiling wide, her eyes still closed.

Sophina bit her lip to choke back a sob. She's broken... Her hand acted on its own. She closed her eyes and wept softly.

"Give me more!" Evelyn begged.

Sophina slipped another finger inside her. Evelyn moaned. Sophina laid down next to her and let her fingers continue the work.

I'm sorry Evelyn. I wish I could be Daminus.

Sophina worked her magic with her fingers to make it quicker. Soon enough Evelyn's body began to shake. "Daminus!" she cried out as she came.

Sophina curled up with Evelyn and held her in her arms. Evelyn sighed in satisfaction and immediately fell asleep. Soon enough Sophina will get up and clean her wounds. She will dress her and have Jon come back and heal her.

But, for now, she would hold her and weep for her; because she was too broken to grieve for herself.

***

Ashford sat by the fire and chewed his fingernails. Too many things had happened in the last day for his mind to grasp it all. And now, to top it off, he walked in on Sophina naked. Now he had to battle lust along with every other emotion.

I have never seen a body so...perfect. I didn't know female soldiers could look so good. My God, her breasts were perfect; small yet perky. Her legs were nicely muscled. I didn't know muscles could have such beautiful symmetry. And that blonde hair between her legs...glistening with sweat!

Ashford shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Something wrong?" Jon asked suddenly, appearing out of nowhere.

Ashford nearly jumped out of his chair. "No! No...nothing."

Jon looked at him quizzically as he sat down across from him. Her grabbed a glass of wine and took a sip. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sorry. So how are those two?"

Jon shrugged. "They will live." He set down the glass of wine and leaned toward Ashford. "Where did she learn those spells?"

What is he on about? "I would assume she learned it in the Emporium."

Jon lifted his left eyebrow questioningly. "Really? I was under the impression that she was of the 5th Tier."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 05



Ashford frowned. "Yes, she is. I don't see what..." Ashford trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise.

Jon nodded and sat back in his chair. "Yes, those were at least 9th Tier spells. I admit, I don't know much about her, but I do know from common knowledge that she was more a defensive mage than offensive. Am I right?"

Is it possible for this night to hold anymore secrets? "Yes, you are correct. Daminus was a great offensive weapon; she was not. She was his protection during battle."

"Yes, I have heard that," Jon said. "She is something of a legend for women in this city. A 5th Tier Magi who could cast a very advanced protection spell when her lover was in danger. That was her bond-gift, I assume?"

Ashford nodded. "Yes. Whenever Daminus' life was in danger, she was capable of casting a protection spell more advanced than she was normally able to."

Jon stood up suddenly and walked to the fireplace. He grabbed the poker and stirred the flames. "And yet tonight she cast a powerful ward around herself and got off an icicle attack of at least the 9th Tier."

Ashford rubbed his eyes. "I don't understand it. Her gift only applied to protection spells and only when Daminus was in danger."

Jon stared into the flames for so long that Ashford thought the conversation was over. "What was his gift?" he asked finally, turning away from the flames.

"His gift? You mean his bond-gift?" Ashford asked. Jon nodded. "We never knew. I would always tease him about it; that he never discovered what his bond-gift was. It bugged him a great deal but Evelyn would always laugh it off. She would always say his love for her was the only gift she needed."

"But in every soul-mate relationship, some type of gift is given between both partners," Jon replied. "I knew a man once who could share thoughts with his soul-mate. She, in turn, always knew exactly where he was and how his health was."

Ashford shrugged. "Well, we were never able to discover what it was. Believe me; he tried all kinds of experiments."

Jon nodded. "I believe you."

They sat in silence for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts. "So why do you want to know? What does this have to do with Evelyn?" Ashford finally asked.

Jon mulled his thoughts over for a few moments. "Those spells were very advanced, even for a more powerful Magi. That icicle attack was made of three parts; the direct attack itself, the hundreds of shards when it hit the wall, and the magical poison contained within each icicle."

Ashford was shocked. "The attack was poisoned?"

"Yes. And the ward she set around herself was very complex. I doubt there are many Magi who could have disarmed it."

"What does this mean?" Ashford asked.

"Did you ever see Daminus cast either of those spells?" Jon asked instead.

Ashford thought it over. Did I? I know for sure I never saw him cast the ward spell. But the icicle? With poison? "No...I don't think he was capable of those spells," Ashford said.

"Interesting," Jon replied. His eyes looked...more alive than Ashford had seen there before.

"Care to share?"

"No," Jon replied. Ashford gritted his teeth in frustration. Jon looked up and spotted Ashford's expression. He smiled a little as he said, "At least, not yet. I need to think this over some more."

Ashford opened his mouth angrily but stopped as they both look around when Sophina walked in. "Can you heal her, please?" she asked.

Ashford frowned at her. Her voice sounded like she had been crying and her eyes were puffy. "What's wrong with you?" he asked gruffly, trying not to think of her naked.

They both ignored him. Jon got up and patted her on the shoulder. He disappeared down the hallway. Sophina collapsed into his chair.

"I am exhausted," she said.

Ashford snorted. "Welcome to the club. At least you haven't been living in fear the past few days."

"Don't start," she said, holding up her hand. 

Ashford almost replied, but was too tired himself. "What are we going to do?" he asked quietly.

Sophina laughed softly. "I have no idea. Earlier tonight I was just doing my job. It was just like a thousand other days. And now here I am, consorting with Magi and assassins."

Ashford glanced over at the hallway. "Do you really think we can trust him?" He didn't have to explain who he was talking about.

"Are you crazy? Trust a Magi Victus that just killed my...Evelyn's husband?"

What was she about to say? Ashford didn't feel like pressing the issue. She was definitely acting weird, though. "We are all involved in this. So, for now, I think we have to work together to figure it out."

Sophina sat up straight. "Speaking of which, you never really explained what we are caught up in."

"Yes, I would like to know that, too," Jon said, walking back into the room.

Ashford threw up his hands. "Ok, fine! Look, a group of us grew up together with the King. We were..."

Ashford continued his tale long into the night.

***

Raynolt Teryus hovered by the doorway in the Grand Master's office while the rest of the council surveyed the room. The council was very somber as they took in the total destruction of the office. Raynolt, however, could barely suppress a smile.

If only they knew it was I who caused this devastion. As much as he hated to, he restrained from telling the truth. He just hoped that one day people would know who truly took down the Grand Master Boltus, who was considered the most powerful Grand Master that the Emporium had seen in almost a thousand years.

Halas Winstrum squatted down next to Boltus' body. "What a sad day," he whispered quietly. Most of the council was looking anywhere but at the body. Safra Howe, Master of the 2nd Tier, was openly weeping.

"He was a brave man to the very end," she gasped.

Halas sighed deeply as he got up. He turned and faced the council. "Come, we need to make preparations. We have a lot to do." He motioned to the guards standing next to him. "Take the Grand Master and Darrius' bodies to the burial chamber. Have the priests prepare them for burial."

"Yes, Master Winstrum," they intoned, saluting him.

The council walked slowly from the room. Raynolt let most of the council walk past him but held Halas back long enough for the rest of the council to get out of earshot. Halas raised his eyebrows questioningly as Raynolt motioned him to start walking.

"The 5th Tier needs to select a new Master tonight," Raynolt said.

Halas sighed. "Yes, I know. I hate to rush this type of decision, but I have the feeling the Magi Victus won't give us the luxury of time."

They walked in silence for a few minutes while Raynolt decided how to bring up the next subject. Finally, he decided to be straightforward. "I am putting my name in for the Grand Master position." He felt a thrill as he said those words. He could feel the power they held. He had dreamt of saying those words for so long.

Halas eyed him sideways but said nothing. Raynolt was beginning to feel victory when Halas spoke. "As I am," he said simply.

Raynolt almost missed a step as the shock of what Halas said hit him. Halas? That buffoon? "I...I am surprised, Halas. I never took you for the type who could lead the Magi."

"I think it will be you that will be surprised. Not everyone has such a short memory. Why, I seem to recall that pretty little wife of yours who went missing all those years ago. Tell me, what ever happened to her?"

Raynolt felt his face redden in anger. He clenched his hand to keep it from strangling the life out of him. "Maybe you should consider how impressed the rest of the council was that I captured the Grand Master's killer," he said through gritted teeth.

Halas smiled. "Ah yes, your little show of bravery. I wonder, though, how is it that you came upon the Grand Master as he battled for his life?"

This man is too dangerous to be left alive. Raynolt cursed silently. Halas' murder would look too suspicious and the cocky bastard knew it. "I told you, the Grand Master wished to discuss my proposal."

"Did he? That's funny, I distinctly remember him throwing you out of the council meeting last month and telling you not to bring up that subject in his presence again." His tone barely concealed a very real sense of danger.

Raynolt knew what he was implying. He felt his heartbeat speed up as a small seed of fear took root in his mind. "The Grand Master possessed a volatile temper, you know that. Once he cooled down he extended his hand in apology and wished me to meet with him to discuss my proposal privately."

"And so late at night, too? Why, he was very generous indeed," Halas replied sarcastically.

Raynolt stopped and turned in front of him. "Are you suggesting I had something to do with the Grand Master's death?" He made sure Halas heard the venom in his tone.

Halas didn't blink. "I wouldn't have the faintest idea of that. Regardless, there is no evidence to suggest it. However, if someone were to whisper in the council's ear...why, I don't think they would look too kindly on you for the Grand Master's position." He smiled.

Raynolt was almost tempted to open himself to the magic and be done with this fool. Not yet...but soon. I will see you die, Halas, if you get in my way. Raynolt smiled back, showing his teeth. "Are you so scared of my position that you would seek to poison the council against me?"

Halas dropped all pretenses. "It will be a cold day in the nine hells before I see you take the Grand Master position," he snarled. "Daminus would agree, if he were here. Tell me, what befell him tonight to keep him from answering the summons?"

Raynolt snarled right back at him. "Damn if I know. He was probably too busy giving it to that soul-mate of his."

"So help me Raynolt, if he turns up dead, I will see you clapped in irons and on your knees before the council."

He brushed past Raynolt and stalked down the hallway. Raynolt glared at his back until he disappeared from view. You have it the wrong way, Halas. It will be I who sees you humbled.

Raynolt took off for his office in a foul mood. He threw opened the door when he arrived and instantly embraced his magic. Sanje was leaning against his desk.

"What in the nine hells are you doing in here?" he snarled. He didn't release the magic but readied several deadly spells in his mind.

"We have business to discuss," he said, smiling. His hand drifted to his dagger as he stared into Raynolt's silver-filled eyes.

Raynolt took a deep breath to control his temper. He released the magic. Sanje smirked and took his hand off the dagger. "I arrange the meetings, not you," Raynolt said, gritting his teeth.

Sanje shrugged. "I was going to leave you a message but I spotted your man Lenard outside the gates. He sent me ahead to bring word to you to meet him outside the gates."

"What is it? What did he find?" Raynolt snapped his mouth shut. He hated playing Sanje's games.

"I wouldn't know; it's none of my business. Shall I meet you there?"

Raynolt nodded. "Tell him I will be there shortly."

Sanje moved and then simply disappeared. The papers on Raynolt's desk fluttered. "Did you hear all that?" he asked, apparently speaking to the empty room.

His bookcase swung open silently as Morgana stepped out from the hidden alcove. "Yes. If Lenard asks that you meet him outside the gates, then I fear it's not good news."

"Then we best hurry," he replied.

If this night takes another wrong turn, I swear I am going to kill somebody.

***

Jon leaned back in his chair and soaked in the information Ashford had imparted. It's amazing what these Magi have discovered. I wouldn't have thought it possible...

"So you dedicated your life to protect the King?" Sophina asked. She sounded impressed.

Ashford nodded. "We all loved him. Nobody can deny that he is the greatest king in a long time. And he is only 200 years old. He still has plenty of time to go."

Sophina shook her head. "I can't believe how long you Magi live. We are lucky to have a good king. I can't imagine waiting 400 years for a bad one to die."

Jon snorted. Ashford looked over at him. "Have something to say?" he said angrily.

"I can't understand people that would let a bad king rule for so long."

"We don't have much of a choice," Ashford explained, as though Jon were a child. "It's the bloodline the God declared to rule. The other 11 bloodlines are his council, to help guide his decisions. It's a system designed to balance great powers."

"Why is King Reynar's bloodline so important?" Sophina asked when it became clear that Jon wasn't going to respond.

"It was Roshard the farmer who had faith that the visions the God sent the 12 to meet in the Fields of Summer was true. He struggled hard and long to convince the other 11 to meet. The God awarded Roshard for his unwavering faith. He declared that his line shall be king."

"And so, like fools, you followed that rule for over three thousand years," Jon cut in.

Ashford leaned forward in his chair. "Who are you to question the will of the God!" he spat.

Sophina held up her hands. "Stay calm, Ashford. Jon may possess magic but he is not a Magi. I don't expect him to hold to the same beliefs as you."

Sophina so reminded Jon of Sara in that moment that he winced in remembered pain. She was ever the peacekeeper, even when she chose Berrick over me. The memory of that ancient pain was still able to pierce his heart. He stubbornly refused to remember it.

Everyone fell silent. Sophina, of course, broke the silence. "There is something about your story that I don't understand. How did this Raynolt find out your secret?"

"It was Christiana. She was a very proud woman. She had created a legendary technique and it bothered her that nobody could ever know about it. Raynolt can be a very charming man and Christiana was not immune to his charms. One drunken night, after he complimented her so many times over her brilliant research work, she finally couldn't take it. So she told him everything."

Sophina groaned. "You must have hated her when you found out."

Ashford shook his head. "Actually, we didn't blame her. We knew her nature and we also knew that our secret couldn't last forever. So it was almost a relief when she finally told someone. But before we could approach Raynolt to talk to him about maybe joining our group, Christiana was murdered."

"How do you know all this?" Jon asked quietly. "Weren't you in Raves at the time?"

"Braxus wrote me a letter soon after she told Raynolt. She came to Braxus the next day, filled with remorse, and begged his forgiveness. He requested that I come back immediately to help deal with the situation. But by the time I made it back, I found out that all my friends had been...." Ashford trailed off and stared into the fire.

I know that pain. Jon looked down into this glass of wine. The wine must have knocked down old walls because for some reason he couldn't stop the memories from coming. Even coughing up blood, Sarah was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She had asked his forgiveness with her last breath.

By the time he whispered his answer, the light had already faded from her eyes. He was glad for that small mercy.

Because he had said no.

"But why try to assassinate the king?" Sophina asked, startling Jon out of his painful memories.

"That answer is always simple," Jon whispered. He touched the dagger at his side. "Power," he said simply.

Sophina's eyes widened. "Are you saying...that Raynolt wants to be king?"

"It makes sense," Ashford replied. "That man was always power hungry. He was the youngest Magi to ever join the guild. And he became the youngest Magi to make the 10th Tier. He is only 150 years old."

"Can't the King do something about this?" Sophina asked desperately.

"The King's power lies with the council. If Raynolt somehow controls the council, then he would be nothing more that a figurehead. He can't be assassinated but Raynolt could at least make him irrelevant. The King will know he is being held hostage and with no power to do anything but to go along with whatever Raynolt wants."

"But does this Raynolt control the council?" Sophina asked.

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. He is the Master of the 10th Tier and Grand Master Boltus is very old."

"So he is the next in line for the...what is it called? The Grand Master?"

Ashford shook his head. "No, the council has to vote in the Grand Master. There are 10 council members and someone hoping for the position needs the majority votes. Most of the time, the next Grand Master is very obvious. Boltus was elected with all 10 votes."

"And you think that Raynolt is not so obvious a choice? You said he was very powerful and very young." Sophina looked nervous.

"Raynolt has a certain stigma attached to his name. There were whispers years back when his wife was exiled for having an affair with a non-Magi. She disappeared completely after her exile. Many people suspect that Raynolt killed her for humiliating him." 

"It doesn't matter," Jon said. "A man like him will find some way to seize power, one way or another."

Ashford nodded. "I suspect it is so. So where do we go from here?"

Ashford and Sophina focused on him. Yes, where do we go from here? "For now, we should go to bed. It has been a very long day. Sophina, you can sleep with Evelyn. That way you can keep an eye on her."

Sophina nodded, her eyes showing her gratitude. "Ashford, I have some bedding you can use out here. I will sleep in my room all the way down the hall. Now, if any of you think it would be better to be rid of me, I must warn you: I am a very light sleeper."

Ashford and Sophina both laughed nervously. When they saw his expression they stopped immediately. He got out of his chair, careful to hide his smile.

As he gathered Ashford's bedding, his mind drifted back down the past. Sarah's death had only been the beginning. Berrick was gone not long after; after all, how does one survive the death of their soul-mate?

***

Raynolt cursed his luck as the heavens opened up and poured rain down in a steady stream. The guards next to him held up the sputtering torches as they approached Lenard. He was standing next to a large cart pulled by two horses.

"You just had to drag us out in this downpour, didn't you? Morgana hissed at Lenard. Her blonde hair was stuck to her face.

The tall Magi ignored her. He had pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Rain dripped silently past his face as he waited for Raynolt to approach.

Raynolt stared warily into the cart. There were a couple of large bundles draped with cloth.

"Bodies?" he asked Lenard.

Lenard nodded. "It's not good, Master Teryus."

Raynolt sighed. It looks like I will be killing someone tonight. He gestured for Lenard to remove the cloth.

Lenard leaned into the cart and pulled back the cloth from the first bundle. Raynolt gestured to the guard to hold the torch up higher. He peered over the edge and wiped water from his face.

It was Daminus.

A slow smile spread across his face. He turned to Lenard. "What in the nine hells do you mean that it's not good? This is wonderful!"

Lenard grimaced and pulled back the rest of the cloth. Raynolt stumbled back as a rancid stench hit his nostrils. Morgana ran to the side of the road and vomited. Raynolt removed a cloth from his sleeve and held it over his mouth. He approached the cart slowly.

It was Corman. He was covered in head-to-foot in blood. Raynolt leaned in closer. Other than the hole in his forehead, he couldn't find any other reason for him to be covered in blood. He reached out and grabbed a dark chunk from Corman's robe. He held it up to the torchlight.

What is this? Flesh? He looked closer at Corman's body. He was covered in these chunks of what looked like flesh. He held up the flesh to Lenard. "What is this?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 05



Lenard swallowed. "Master...I think...I think that's Elyus and Job."

Raynolt stumbled back, almost wishing to join Morgana on the side of the road. "What...how?"

"I don't know. The only logical conclusion is magic. Ashford was gone. Evelyn Ventus is nowhere to be found."

"Ashford and Evelyn combined couldn't have taken out one of my 10th Tier Magi!" Raynolt spat.

Lenard nodded. "That's what I thought. Corman, at least, was killed by a knife to the forehead. I would be willing to bet Jon Laurent did that."

"Yes, of course, I know that! I was expecting to maybe lose one Magi tonight. But I instructed Job and Elyus to protect Corman. It should have been one of those two who died."

"I have Captain Aquanas and his men searching the city for Ashford and Evelyn. And for that guard Sophina Crews, as well. They couldn't have gotten far."

Raynolt took another breath to calm down. The guards he brought along were shooting nervous looks at each other. I am betrayed. But by whom? I can't trust anybody.

"Raynolt," Morgana said, walking back toward him. She was very pale. "It would have to be somebody very, very powerful to kill Job and Elyus. Who is capable of that?"

Raynolt frowned. "I am, of course. Boltus was already dead. The three I sent tonight were my strongest 10th Tier Magi."

"What about Daminus?" Lenard said, nodding his head at the body in the cart. "Maybe he killed those two before he was killed."

"Daminus?" Raynolt wanted to scream. Is it possible? He was my rival, after all. "Impossible!" he decided. "Elyus and Job would have laughed in his face. Besides, I don't see any marks on his body. Can I assume he died by a knife wound?"

Lenard nodded. "Yes, right in the back."

"You see? I instructed Corman and the others to eliminate Jon Laurent after he killed Ashford. It seems obvious to me that Laurent encountered Daminus at Ashford's house and had to kill him first. Corman, thinking that Laurent just killed Ashford, would have revealed himself."

"But Ashford was still alive," Morgana said slowly, talking through a rag that she was using to ward off the smell. "And for Laurent and Ashford to escape alive, they would have had to team up. So Laurent distracted Job and Elyus enough for Ashford to finish them off. Then Laurent killed Corman himself."

Lenard frowned. "But that would mean that Ashford still had to kill Job and Elyus. He wasn't powerful enough to do that, even with a distraction from Laurent."

Raynolt clapped his hands together. "Evelyn! She must have taken off from the Emporium once this Sophina Crews saved her. She headed straight for Ashford's because that's where her husband told her he would be. Evelyn and Laurent combined might have been enough of a distraction for Ashford to kill Job and Elyus. He was 9th Tier, after all, and had fought against Raves in the war."

Lenard nodded slowly. "It makes sense. But we still have to find those four."

Raynolt fell silent, his mind working frantically. "Daminus' death is going to cause problems to my plan."

"I have a solution," a voice said from behind.

Morgana and Lenard whirled around, eyes glowing silver. Raynolt only smiled and turned around slowly. "Sanje," he greeted the Magi Victus.

"I know how you can tie this whole mess up in a pretty little bow," he said confidently.

Lenard and Morgana were standing next to him, tense with fear. He held out his hands to each of them and they reluctantly released their magic. "I'm listening," he told Sanje.

As Sanje talked, a slow smile twitched at the corners of Raynolt's mouth. With this plan, he would be the Grand Master by tomorrow night.

***

A dark form stood silhouetted against a window high up a tower as the rain beat a steady rhythm on the glass. Lightning flashed, revealing a man dressed in elaborate clothes. His boots were black and lined with silver. His pants were just as dark and contained silver dragons that crawled up the pants. His tunic was black as well and made from a substance softer than silk; a material long lost to the history of man.

If the clothes made the man appear foppish, then his face disabused that notion. His face could have been cut from the very mountains themselves. His face was almost as dark as his clothes. His chin jutted out like solid rock. His nose appeared to have been broken at least once. His eyes were a dark pool that threatened death at any moment. His hair was as black as night and combed back from his head.

The sound of a door opening did not startle him. He was expecting the man who stepped inside.

"It is as you feared," the man from behind said. "Grand Master Boltus is dead. It has begun."

King Reynar turned from the window, lightning flashing down to frame his body. He grinned. "Then let it begin."



Shadow Dagger Ch. 06



He spurred his horse on faster, trying desperately to catch up. But her horse was faster. She looked back and smiled, the wind whipping her blonde hair across her face. She looked so alive. His heart skipped a beat. He needed her with a desperation he never knew existed inside of him.

"You don't want me?" she teasingly yelled back at him. The wind carried her words to him and then whisked them past. He kicked his horse faster but the poor beast was already at its limit.

"You're a cheater!" he yelled into the wind. He doubted she heard his words but she got his message; she winked one silver-filled eye at him.

It wasn't fair that she had advanced more in the training. It irked him that he still didn't know how to manipulate organic life as she had done to her horse. As though sensing his thoughts, she looked back with her normal blue eyes and slowed her horse down.

He caught up with her and they settled into a brisk canter. "Master Marin would be irate with you right now if he saw what you did to that poor horse." His words were a rebuke but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"And who would go tell him what I did?" She quirked her eyebrow at him, knowing full well he would never do such a thing.

He smiled ruefully and ran his hand through his chestnut-colored hair. "Your constant improvement always amazes me, Sarah. Master Marin barely began teaching Organic Manipulation and here you already mastered it."

She shrugged. "It wasn't hard." She smirked at him, her eyes shining with mirth.

"You do love to tease me, don't you?" He gazed longingly into those perfect blue eyes.

She glanced away from his look. "If I can't tease you, what else should I do to occupy my time?" She glanced back at him, her eyes still shining with life and joy. They always were.

"I can think of something you could do," he replied, giving his voice the best masculine sound he could produce at his boyish 160 years.

She threw back her head and laughed. He thought he could die happy listening to that laugh. He heard music in that sound; better than any minstrel had ever been able to pluck from an instrument. "Jocelyn warned me about you. She told me you have a gifted tongue. She also told me to beware its power."

He put on his best affronted look. "Me? I daresay Jocelyn is playing mischief with you. Why, I am the picture of youthful innocence."

"Somehow I doubt that," she said quietly, her eyes shining as bright as ever. They walked their horses in peaceful silence for several minutes.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said.

"What's that?" Her eyes were half-closed to the gentle summer wind and her face was turned to the sun.

He opened his arms wide. "The Segundi Fields," he said simply. His gesture took in the gentle rolling hills that were covered in blue flowers and rows of apple trees blossoming with their succulent fruit.

"Hmmm," she muttered, never really opening her eyes. He took the opportunity to study the most beautiful thing in these fields...her. Sarah, she was named; the Daughter of the Sun. Looking at her now, he never knew a truer name. Her golden curls gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. Her golden skin sparkled like thousands of little diamonds.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

She turned her head toward him and opened her eyes. He stared at her intently, willing her to feel what he felt. The smile slowly faded from her face as she stared back at him. "This looks like a good place for our picnic," she said, indicating a nearby apple tree with her hand.

He nodded. "Yes," he agreed. The word almost stuck in his throat; she was staring at him with an intensity he had never seen or experienced before. He gulped nervously.

He dismounted from his horse and pulled off a blanket from behind the saddle. He unrolled the blanket and set in gently down underneath the apple tree. She took down the picnic basket from her horse and sat down beside him on the blanket.

He leaned back on an elbow, not to appear casual but to avoid her gaze. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had never been so close to her in such isolation. He could smell her scent from this close; she smelled like the sun.

She opened the picnic basket and pulled out a loaf of bread covered in cloth. She carefully unfolded the edges and tore a hunk off the bread. She twisted around and handed him the piece.

His fingers trailed along her hand as he took it from her. He felt sweat bead on his forehead. He felt an ache from between his legs at the touch from her skin.

She smiled at him knowingly. She tore off a smaller piece of bread and chewed it in thoughtful silence. He wolfed his piece down too fast; he almost choked on it. He thanked the God that her back was turned to him as his face reddened before he could swallow the bread.

He spent several minutes gathering his courage as he watched her chewed her bread contently as she took in the peaceful day. He sat up and was about to set his plan in motion when she spoke. 

"I've heard troubling rumors," she said quietly.

Her tone was serious. He felt the electric atmosphere dissipate. He almost sighed but said instead, "What rumors?"

"That the True-born have begun acting strange; that they are becoming...violent. Jocelyn heard a rumor that several True-born wiped out an entire village over in Core."

He snorted. "And you believe her? Jocelyn loves nothing more than causing mischief, you know that. Besides, I wouldn't worry about the True-Born. Everyone knows they are an odd bunch. It's the magic, Sarah. They can't help it."

"I know, I know," she replied. She grabbed a handful of grass and threw it up into the wind. She watched the blades of grass dance on the air before continuing. "It's just...I have been hearing a lot of rumors like these lately. Have you noticed anything strange from Marcus?"

He tensed at the mention of Marcus and then let out a slow breath. She didn't know any better, he reminded himself. "Not really. Marcus has always been odd, even for a True-born. I'm told he doesn't sleep well. He says he is haunted by his dreams. But violent? No, Marcus is most definitely not violent."

She nodded her head. She looked up at him and put a smile on her face. "I guess you're right. But these whispers of war have put me in a funny mood. It makes me take stock of my life. I want to live now and stop worrying about the future."

"What do you mean?" he asked. He scooted closer to her.

"I don't care if your father will approve of me or not," she said, defiance painting her every word.

He blushed in embarrassment at her directness. "I...we...I mean...I know we talked about...uh...marriage, but I didn't know...that...that..." He cursed his awkwardness and ran his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words.

"That I love you?" she whispered. She wasn't smiling but her eyes shone with a different light.

He felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Truly?"

She placed her hand on his chest. "How could I not fall in love with you? I don't care if we ever get married. I...I want to live now." She blushed and looked away.

Her declaration of love calmed his nerves. He reached out and caressed the side of her face. "You want to make love to me." It wasn't a question.

She blushed deeper but nodded her head. "Yes," she replied huskily.

He leaned in to kiss her. But she held up her finger in front of his lips. "No, I don't want you to kiss me there." She turned her head and pointed with a shaking finger at her neck. "Kiss me here."

He did as she commanded. He breathed against her neck as he took in the smell of her skin. He felt her shiver. He brought his lips down and sucked gently on her neck. She shuddered even more and brought her hands to his head and held him tightly.

He flicked his tongue out and tasted her skin. He bit down gently and sucked the skin between his teeth. He felt her rapid breathing on his ear.

He felt his cock strain against his pants. He eagerly reached up and pulled down the straps of her dress. She reached out with shaking hands and began tugging on his pants. He kissed and sucked on her neck as he struggled to pull down her dress.

Their frantic movements prevented them both from undressing each other. They laughed nervously. "Ok, you first," she giggled.

He smiled and tugged the dress down her chest. She raised her arms for him and the sleeves slipped off. She blushed as her perky breasts were exposed to the warm summer air. He stopped and stared in wonder. Her skin was truly kissed by the sun. She was golden all over.

His palms were slick with sweat as he laid her down on the blanket. She reached up hesitantly to cover her breasts but then lowered her arms slowly. He kneeled by her knees and tugged the dress furthered down her golden body. Her stomach quivered nervously.

At long last, he completely removed the dress and beheld her naked body. He caressed her thighs in wonder. Her skin felt so smooth and soft. Her body quivered harder under his touch.

He kissed his way up her body. She moaned each time his lips came down. He passed her pussy, the scent almost overpowering him. He stopped at her breasts and played with her nipples by flicking his tongue out. She grabbed his head and brought it hungrily up to her lips.

He kissed her more passionately than he had ever done before. "I am so wet," she breathed in his ear. She flicked her tongue out and sucked on his earlobe.

He groaned. His whole body felt on fire. She bit his neck and ran her hands over his body. She reached into his pants and pulled his cock out. The sensation of her warm, soft hands on his cock was too much for his inexperienced body. He groaned as thick, ropy strands of his seed shot out and hit her naked chest.

Her eyes widened in surprise before she broke out in laughter. He flushed red as the last of his seed trailed off her hand. "Sorry," he muttered, hanging his head in shame.

She didn't let go of his cock. "It's ok. Jocelyn told me to expect something like this."

"Did you girls talk about me?" he asked in outrage.

She smiled and tugged his cock. "Maybe."

He shook his head. "I never knew you two had such dirty minds." He looked up and couldn't help but smile at her.

"I'm not the only one with a dirty mind," she teased. She tugged on his cock again. "This thing of yours is still hard."

He looked down in surprise. "I guess I really want this."

"Well? Are you going to keep me waiting?" The look of hunger in her eyes made him blush again.

Instead of answering, he pushed her down on the blanket. He took off his shirt and flung it aside. He stood up and pulled his pants off his ankles and boots. He kicked his boots off and quickly laid down between her legs.

"Go slow," she said.

He slowed down his eagerness at the look of fear on her face. "I would never hurt you," he told her, smoothing her hair. He kissed her lips gently. "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. He grabbed his cock and slowly guided it to her hole. He had to take a deep breath himself as he pushed it past her pussy lips. He felt her expand around his cock as he pushed his cock all the way in.

"This is incredible," he breathed.

She bit her lip and nodded. She dug her nails into his back as he slowly began pushing. He had never felt a more amazing feeling in his life. He was so thankful that he had already spent his seed. Still, he felt his orgasm quickly approach.

He clenched his teeth and fought off the sensation. She dug her nails in harder and moaned by his ear. The sensation of feeling his orgasm and trying to fight it off at the same time was driving him crazy. The feeling was overwhelming. He ached to release himself.

Suddenly, she dug her nails in deeper as her body began to quiver. She buried her face in his shoulder as her body shook. He couldn't hold it any longer. He cried out as he released his seed deep inside of her.

He laid on top of her for several minutes as he tried to catch his breath. She ran her hands over his body and kissed him softly.

He looked down into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

A sudden gust of wind blew past and stirred her golden hair. Her skin dissolved slowly as the wind carried it off. "I'm sorry," she said, her face rapidly disappearing.

"I know," he replied. His heart broke open and pain poured through his body.

"Will you ever forgive me?" A tear ran down her cheek and was carried off by the wind. Her body dissolved under him. Her blue eyes stared at him sadly and were gone. Nothing was left of her but a pile of ashes. Nothing was left of his heart. The ashes held more than her remains.

His memories of her always turned to ashes.

"I'm sorry," a deep voice said from behind.

He sighed and rolled over. A man stood framed in front of the sun. He squinted and covered his eyes. 

The man was tall. He had broad shoulders and wore a long apron. His hands were dusted with black soot and his sleeves were rolled up his massive arms. His black hair stirred in the wind. Dark eyes stared out of deep sockets. A scar ran down from his forehead, over his right eye, and down his tanned cheek.

"Berrick," he said bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I didn't want this." The man sounded on the verge of tears.

Jon d'Thelas san Ronar turned his head from the man. "Leave me be," he grunted. His nails dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

"I just want forgiveness," Berrick pleaded.

"That I cannot give." Jon squeezed his eyes against the pain in his chest.

"Why did you keep the sword?"

Jon jumped up and took off running down the hill. Berrick's voice carried down to him. He could never escape him. Berrick haunted his every dream. There was no respite.

"Why did you keep the sword? Why?"

Jon jerked up in bed. His body was covered in sweat. He panted and rubbed his eyes. Will I ever escape the past? I am tired, so very tired.

Jon heard a knocking on the door and realized that was what woke him. I'm slipping! Next thing I know I will wake up to a dagger in my chest.

Disgusted with himself, he got up and opened the door. A sleepy and haggard looking Ashford stood in the doorway. He pointed back down the hallway. "That crazy beggar is here. How the hell did he get in here?"

Jon's mind seemed to be stuck in mud. "Marcus?" He shook his head and tried to clear his mind. I am getting old.

He pushed his way past Ashford and made his way down the hall. The fire in the fireplace cast dark shadows on the wall. Marcus was nervously pacing by the fire. He turned around at Jon's approach. "Jon, the news is-"

Jon held up his hand to stop him. "Not here." He walked to the staircase in the wall. He heard Marcus' nervous shuffling behind him. Jon reached the top of the staircase and pressed the hidden lever. The wall sunk down into the ground. Jon held out his hand to Ashford and shook his head. Ashford frowned.

Marcus followed him up the stairs and into the abandoned house. Jon turned around and pressed the lever. The wall rose back up. He turned to Marcus. "Continue."

Marcus wiped sweat from his forehead. "The Grand Master of the Emporium was murdered last night. The word is that the Magi Victus have declared war. This is not good, not good." He continued mumbling and bit his lip.

"Events are moving too fast," Jon said, talking to himself.

Marcus laughed. Madness was in his voice. "Fast? No, no, no! History has finally caught up to us! The time of ending has arrived!"

Jon stared at him. Marcus smiled nervously and looked away. "Marcus...are you saying what I think you are saying?"

Marcus shuffled over to a broken window and looked out. "It was the girl, the beautiful girl, the blessed girl! Last night, you know? The one dragged by your minions?"

Jon felt curiously numb. "I had thought..." He shook his head. "I couldn't be sure...she is the one?"

Marcus giggled and turned to face Jon. He was weeping and laughing. For a man who was rarely unnerved, the sight made Jon uncomfortable. "At last! At long last! The wait is almost over!" He cackled as he paced back and forward.

So this is it? All these years waiting and it just...happens? "Marcus, I need you to be sure."

Marcus stopped pacing. The mad laughter faded from his face. A deep sadness replaced it. "My dreams don't lie, Jon. You know that. They have become...stronger these past weeks. I need more payment this time. I did good right? I got the news, yes I did!"

He shuffled up to Jon. His eyes were wet with tears. "I did good, Jon," he said, his voice pained and low-pitched like a child's.

Jon patted his shoulder. "Yes...you did good." He walked to a nearby wall of broken shelves. He squatted on his heels and dug around on the ground. He sighed as he found what he was looking for. He pushed his hand and heard something click. He pulled out a small box of metal from the debris.

Marcus gave a hoot of laughter. "My payment!" He danced around, happy as a dog given a treat.

Jon opened the box. It contained a few small cloth bags, each about the size of a small rock and tied off at the top. He selected one bag and put the metal box back in its hiding place. He got up and turned toward Marcus.

Marcus ran up to him and held out his hand. "Please?"

Jon nodded sadly and handed him the bag. Marcus laughed with joy and pulled an object out of his tattered shirt. It was a battered tea-cup. He looked around and frowned. "I don't have any water. I have to go. No water you see? A man needs water; hot, preferably. And some mint. Mint makes it bearable, yes?"

Jon nodded. "Go in peace, Marcus." I'm sorry. I have never done right by you.

Marcus looked up and smiled sadly. "Don't worry, Jon. It's almost over, remember? Then I can be at peace."

"I hope so," Jon said quietly as he watched Marcus shuffle off happily.

***

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and the prisoner raised his head. The light of the torches behind the door momentarily blinded him. He squinted and shielded his eyes. "Sanje?" he asked incredulously.

Sanje slipped inside the room and carefully shut the door, leaving enough space to let in a little light. "Alio," he greeted him somberly.

Alio dropped his hands, the shackles around his wrists clanking on the ground. "I'm surprised to see you here," he said.

Sanje squatted down in front of him. He took in the sad state that Alio was in. He was chained to the wall, naked. They seek to strip him of his pride Sanje thought wryly. How little they know us.

Alio had several large bruises on his face and chest. Dried blood was caked around his nostrils and lips. He sat, slumped, against the wall inside a cell no bigger than a body length in any direction. Sanje could barely squeeze inside.

"I'm sorry for what I had to do," Sanje said quietly.

Alio thumped his head against the wall and smiled bitterly at him. "We went over this before I sacrificed myself, Sanje. I have faith in your plan. I sacrificed my life for the Magi Victus the day I made my Shadow Dagger. Every Magi Victus has."

Sanje nodded and hung his head. "I know. Still, it pains me to let the Magi have you. But I have a plan that could offer you a quick death instead of the protracted torture the Magi have in store for you."

Alio stared at him warily. "Why deviate from the plan? The others have already agreed to go along with it."

"Any good plan has to adapt to circumstances," Sanje said passionately. "A great opportunity has fallen into our laps. Raynolt's plans haven't gone according to plan and he needs our help."

Alio snorted. "I still can't understand why you trust that Magi. Do you really expect him keep his end of the bargain?"

"No, of course I don't. That's why he can never know our true plan. He knows I don't expect him to keep his bargain. But as long as he is focused on how I will double-cross him, he will be blind to our plan."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 06



Alio nodded. "I trust you, Sanje. I think we all trusted you the day we let some upstart puppy take control over the Magi Victus. We overlooked how you took control and that says much of our loyalty."

"Thank you," he replied softly. "I have always wanted the best for the Magi Victus. When your death comes today, know that the day is soon coming when the Magi Victus will no longer be outcasts. We will be free."

Alio closed his eyes. Even in the dim light, Sanje could see a tear make its way down his dirty face. "Free," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I have never known freedom."

Sanje grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Today, brother, you will know freedom. May the God welcome you home and greet you as his son."

Alio grabbed his hand and nodded fiercely. "Sanje," he rasped, "what of my son? Will you watch over him?"

Sanje grabbed his face and kissed his forehead. "Always, brother. The children of the Magi Victus shall always have their honored place. He will take his rightful place, a testament to your sacrifice."

Alio dropped his head, overcome with emotion. Sanje leaned in toward his ear. "This is how you will buy your death today."

Sanje whispered into his ear and Alio nodded his understanding.

***

Raynolt paced his office as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He tried several times to sit as his desk and conduct the mundane tasks of a Tier Master but couldn't keep his concentration long enough to do those simple tasks.

He blew out a relieved breath when the ward on his door suddenly glowed blue. The moment his hand touched the door handle, the ward faded. He opened the door and stepped back as Sanje slipped inside the room. Raynolt poked his head out and looked down the hallway. He closed the door softly.

"Did anybody see you?" he asked nervously and then cursed himself for showing his nerves.

Sanje raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so nervous?"

"Maybe it's because I hinged all my plans on a Magi Victus! So is your man going to come through on his part?"

Raynolt suppressed a moment of rage at the condensing look Sanje gave him. "Of course," he said coolly.

Raynolt breathed a sigh of relief. He sat down in his chair and tried to collect himself. "And the evidence? Will it arrive on time or did you have any trouble getting past the defenses?"

Sanje lowered his hand to his Shadow Dagger and smirked. "No," was his simple response.

"All is ready then," Raynolt muttered to himself. At that moment, the false bookcase swung open and Morgana stepped inside. She tensed when she saw the Magi Victus but then turned her back on him deliberately and faced Raynolt. He looked over her shoulder and saw Sanje transfer his smirk to her back.

"The council is assembling now. Nearly the entire guild has made their way back into the city and will be there today. This is the moment we have waited for!" she finished, her eyes shining with ambition.

"Good," Raynolt said, getting up from his chair. "Have Captain Aquanas fetch the prisoner."

Morgana nodded and made to leave but Raynolt remembered a part of their plan. "Wait," he said, grabbing her arm. "How did it go last night?"

Morgana smiled sweetly at him. "You will have to wait until the meeting to find out, my love." She left and closed the bookcase behind her.

"She succeeded," Sanje said. "It's all over her face."

"I'm glad, though it wasn't essential to my plan. I think I still have enough votes. But it's good that she succeeded, just in case." 

"It's a good plan," Sanje offered.

Raynolt scowled. "It wouldn't have been necessary if it weren't for Jon Laurent. If only you can have put your man on a leash."

Raynolt looked up and saw Sanje's face stiffen. "Jon Laurent is not, nor will ever be, my man," he said, his voice deadly soft. "He calls himself Magi Victus but holds himself apart. He has never been privy to my plans and he never will. The best I could do was mislead him."

Raynolt sighed. "I know. I just wish I could take care of that man, once and for all. He is like a dagger hovering behind my back."

"We'll get him," Sanje said, his voice full of determination.

The bookcase swung open again and Lenard walked in. "It's time."

Raynolt fear a shiver of fear pass through him. He took a breath and forced himself to be calm. It's going to work!

He stood up and felt a sudden gust of air. The door to his office stood open and Sanje was gone. He shook his head.

"I hate having to work with someone who can just appear and disappear like that," Lenard said. He joined Raynolt as he left the office.

"It's only a matter of time before we severe our relationship with him," Raynolt said absently. His mind was focused on the upcoming events. Today would either make or break him.

Lenard must have sensed his worry. "It's a good plan. I don't know what Sanje is planning, but for now, his plan will work for us."

Why is everyone seeking to reassure me? Do I look that weak? "I know it will work," he replied scathingly. "I am preparing for the worst. That way, there will be no surprises."

They walked in silence toward the Hall of Mages. Raynolt analyzed every possible outcome to his plan and formulated his responses. He prayed to the God that he wouldn't need them.

He heard the crowd long before they walked into the Hall. He turned to Lenard. "It really does seem that most of the guild has made it back to the city."

Lenard nodded. "There has been too much death this past month. Everyone knows something unexpected is coming. Now they are just in time to witness the election of a new Grand Master."

Raynolt smiled. "Go and ready the evidence." Lenard nodded, and turned back down the hallway. 

With that, Raynolt walked into the roar of the Hall. Magi were crammed onto the stone benches. News was exchanged with the newly arrived guild members. Most of the Magi didn't even notice Raynolt's entrance.

Raynolt quickly scanned the council row and sighed in relief when he spotted all the members. He quirked an eyebrow in surprise at the Magi sitting in Daminus' seat. He turned to whisper into Lenard's ear. "Why is Sura Montero sitting in Daminus' seat?"

Lenard glanced over at the short, heavy woman and shrugged. Raynolt didn't have a good feeling about this. He did not know Sura that well. He had no clue what her political leanings were.

Raynolt climbed the short steps to the podium. He stood behind it and waited for the crowd to notice his presence. Slowly the crowd quieted and took their seats.

"It warms my heart to see the entire guild once again," Raynolt began. "As the acting representative for the guild, I welcome you back. I am sure you have been filled in by your brethren to our current situation. So let's get straight to business shall we?"

The crowd murmured it's welcome to the new arrivals and then fell silent. Raynolt continued. "First, I understand the 5th Tier has chosen its new Master?"

"Yes, we have." Raynolt smiled as Morgana stood up from her seat and made her way down to the main floor and stood in front of Raynolt. "I have been chosen to represent the interests of the 5th Tier."

The crowd applauded. Raynolt smirked to see the color rise in Morgana's cheeks. You were only raised with my help, Morgana. Always remember that. Out loud he said, "I applaud the 5th Tier members for their outstanding choice. Does the council concur with the decision?"

The council members quickly concurred with a unanimous 'aye.' Everyone, that is, expect Halas. Raynolt glared at him. Halas met his stare and snorted contemptuously. "Aye," he finally said, thought it was evident he didn't care at all for the 5th Tier's choice.

Let's see who is laughing tonight, Halas. The crowd applauded the council's decision. Morgana hung her head to hide her glow of pleasure. Raynolt waited for the crowd to quiet before continuing. "Morgana Rosewood, on behalf of the Council of Magi, and on behalf of the position of Grand Master, I welcome you to the council. Please, take your seat."

Morgana quickly walked to the empty seat on the council row and sat down. The crowd cheered her again. Her pale cheeks were bright red.

Raynolt held his hands up for silence. He turned his gaze on Sura Montero. "Before I continue, I would like to know why the 9th Tier chair is filled when Daminus Ventus is missing."

A murmur of confusion ran through the crowd. Sura stood up and nervously smoothed her dark red robes. She was not a pretty woman. Her black hair stood out from her head as though she had just been hit by a lightning bolt. She was short and very plump. And extra chin hung down from her face and her eyes were buried by surrounding flesh.

"Forgive my impertinence, Raynolt, but the members felt that the 9th Tier needed a voice today if we are to elect a new Grand Master."

"I understand your concern, Sura. But it is the council's decision to allow a temporary replacement."

"I allowed it," Halas cut it. He smirked up at Raynolt. "Since you are the acting Grand Master, the leadership of the council fell onto my shoulders."

Raynolt clinched the side of the podium to keep from jumping down and beating the man to an inch of his life. He had no doubt now which way Sura's political views swung. "You are correct," he said through gritted teeth.

I need to relax. If my plan works, I will have all the votes I need.

Sura sighed in relief and sat down. Raynolt looked away from Halas' gloating face and collected himself. Now it's time. He focused his attention on Captain Aquanas, who stood at attention next to the door. "Captain, please escort the prisoner in."

The crowd fell eerily silent. Raynolt had no doubt that they struggled to control their anger. The sound of chains clicking on the floor preceded the imprisoned Magi Victus into the room.

Several Magi gasped as the naked man was pushed to the floor in front of Raynolt. He struggled to his knees and lifted his head. He stared straight at Raynolt. He nodded his head a nearly imperceptible amount and looked back down.

Raynolt let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. "The council has all had a chance to talk to the prisoner. How do you judge his guilt?"

"Guilty," they all intoned at once. It was a rhetorical question, really. Any Magi Victus captured alive was always put to the death immediately. But the Magi didn't want to appear to be uncivilized.

"Magi Victus," Raynolt continued, "you are found guilty of murder by the council of the Guild of Magi. The punishment for the unjust slaying of a member of this guild is carried out as we see fit. For your crimes, the council has decided that you shall be drawn and quartered. The limbs on your body will be torn off with excruciating pain, so that you will feel the pain that we have endured. Have you anything to say?"

Raynolt held his breath. His moment of victory hung in the balance. The time had finally arrived. The crowd remained dead silent; they waited for the prisoner's response with bated breath.

The prisoner coughed and spit blood to the floor. "Yes," he rasped. "I have information I would like to share in exchange for a quick and merciful death."

The crowd exploded in angry shouts. Even the council was yelling incomprehensible profanities. Raynolt raised his hands for silence, his heart thumping away in his chest. Your man better come through, Sanje. Or so help me...

The crowd gradually subsided. Most were casting disgusted stares at the prisoner. The man endured their taunts with his head held high. "We are not starting a war. Why would we wipe out our source of income?"

The crowd muttered angrily. The council exchanged confused looks. "What are you trying to say?" Raynolt asked.

The man waited several moments to make sure everyone was hanging on his words. "We were hired by a Magi to assassinate the Grand Master."

Raynolt felt his pulse quicken with excitement as the room almost exploded in shouting. The council was on their feet now. The air almost tasted of power. The guards around the room shifted nervously and clenched their weapons in their fists.

The prisoner had his head hung, his dirty hair hiding his face. But Raynolt could see that he was smiling. The crowd took a lot longer to quiet down this time. "My brothers and sisters, please try to maintain your anger. We will hear what this man has to say."

"So he can poison us with his lies?" somebody shouted. Murmurs of agreement swept the room.

"Lies?" the prisoner said quietly. The room hushed to hear him. "We Magi Victus pride ourselves on living truthfully. Do you think I would make this accusation without proof?"

The crowd was silent. Raynolt scanned the room and saw Magi shifting uncomfortably. It was a well known fact that Magi have hired the Magi Victus over the years. But no one had ever dared to aim so high as to assassinate the Grand Master.

Raynolt took a deep breath to ask his next question. "Who do you accuse of hiring you?"

The room was so silent that Raynolt could hear the excited breathing of the crowd. The prisoner struggled to his feet, unmindful of his nudity. He straightened his back with pride and looked Raynolt straight in the eye. 

"Halas Winstrum," he said clearly, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Nobody said a word or moved a muscle. An eerie state of shock overtook the crowd. Raynolt quickly scanned the front row and almost laughed at the look of shock on Halas' face. His face reddened slowly and he jumped to his feet.

"LIAR!" he roared.

The crowd descended into madness as shouting and even magic rang through the room. Someone even had the audacity to fling a fireball straight at the prisoner. Raynolt acted quickly; he jumped from the podium and wove a shield around the prisoner. The fireball dissolved before it hit him.

The act of aggression shocked the crowd. Everyone stopped and looked around the room. Raynolt was almost beside himself with anger. "The next person who tries something like that will be charged with conspiracy! Do you understand me?"

His breath left his body in angry spurts. He held his hands out, his eyes bleeding with power. People quickly sat down. Only Halas remained standing, his face still flush with anger.

Raynolt released his magic and walked back to the podium. He turned his gaze to Halas. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Yes!" he quickly shouted. "I have never hired the Magi Victus in my life! Where is his proof? I will tell you where it is! It doesn't exist because I am innocent!"

Raynolt turned back to the prisoner. "Well? Do you have any evidence?"

The prisoner smiled. "Oh yes." He turned around and looked at Halas. "You were careless."

Halas puffed up in anger but Raynolt spoke before he could. "What do you mean? Tell us of your arrangement."

The prisoner turned back around. "We were hired to kill the Grand Master. Actually, we were hired to kill three people. Sorry to say, but you were on the list. So was Daminus Ventus."

Sura, sitting next to Halas, gasped and covered her mouth. Halas looked too angry to even speak. His face had turned an ugly prune color. "What were his motives?" Raynolt asked, playing along with the charade. Inside, he was dancing and yelling with joy.

The prisoner cocked his head. "I thought that would be obvious. He wished to remove the people in front of him for the Grand Master position."

A shocked gasp ran through the crowd. Some Magi even nodded their heads, as though it all made sense. Halas slammed his fists on the stone in front of him. "All I am hearing are lies! Where is his proof? Where?"

The prisoner continued as though Halas had not said anything. "You were never summoned to meet with the Grand Master that night," he said, addressing Raynolt. "That was a false summons from Halas. We were supposed to eliminate the Grand Master and then ambush you before you knew what was going on. However, both you and the Grand Master proved to be more dangerous than we anticipated."

Raynolt almost smiled in pleasure. The man was good, very good. Not only had he superbly placed the blame on Halas, but he reinforced Raynolt's position with the compliment. Now it was time to end this. "What happened next?"

"Don't tell me you are listening to this-" Halas cut in.

"You will wait your turn!" Raynolt snapped back. He pointed to the prisoner. "Continue!"

"When I was captured, and having failed to carry out the other two assassinations, Halas refused to pay for the contract on the Grand Master. He argued that we had failed. However, we do not include multiple targets on one contract. There were three separate contracts. We fulfilled one of those."

"How did the Magi Victus respond to his refusal to pay?"

"We refused to carry out the other two contracts until we were paid."

"How does he even know all this? He was captured!" Halas screamed.

"Because you told me, when you came to 'interrogate' me," the prisoner replied. "They refused to carry out the contract so you offered to free me if I would."

Halas snorted furiously. "And you didn't take him up on his offer?" Raynolt asked.

"We have our pride," he whispered.

"ENOUGH! I have had enough with his lies! Where is the proof?" Halas' eyes glowed silver.

Raynolt opened himself to the magic. Power surged through his being. The guards took a step forward. Raynolt held his hand up to stop them. Halas wasn't stupid enough to attack...yet. 

He looked down at the prisoner. "Halas is right. Where is the proof?"

"Like I said, he was careless. He became desperate; he knew you or Daminus would get the Grand Master position. So he took matters into his own hands. He killed Daminus Ventus."

Sura looked over at Halas in shock. Tears leaked from her eyes. Raynolt felt his moment coming. Halas had to know that the trap was falling in around him. He looked around helplessly. People were already beginning to look at him angrily.

"How do you know this?" Raynolt asked.

"Because his body has just been delivered to us," a voice boomed. Everyone in the Hall turned to look at the entrance. Lenard strode into the Hall. A guard was dragging a small, two-wheeled cart behind him. There was a large bundle wrapped in cloth inside the cart.

Raynolt heard a thump and looked around. Sura had fainted at her seat. Everyone was silent. Raynolt strode down to the cart and quickly whipped back the cloth. The stench of death quickly filled the Hall.

People began to scream and cry out. Daminus' body was a smoking ruin. Half his face was blackened with fire. Blood soaked the pale cloth that wrapped his body. To Raynolt's eyes, and any other Magi looking, magical runes were still etched into the ruined face.

"Murdered by magecraft...Who delivered this?" Raynolt asked Lenard.

"The guards at the gate summoned the nearest Magi. I was the one who received the summons. There was a note attached to the body. It came from the Magi Victus." He handed the note to Raynolt.

Raynolt read the note aloud. "Here is the evidence of the treachery of Magi. Let this body cause chaos and havoc among you. Let this body bear example to the insult dealt to us. Your prisoner has already received word of this. He will tell you everything you need to know. Don't dishonor us again, Magi."

Raynolt turned and looked at Halas. He knew he was trapped. His eyes glowed stronger and he quickly moved his hands. Raynolt reacted with a counter-spell. He didn't need to bother; Spells of Binding flew at Halas from all over the room. To any Magi's eyes, his body was layered in runes of binding.

Lenard spoke into the stillness of the room. "Several guards reported last night of seeing fire light the night sky. I already sent guards to the location. It was a wooded area. A homeless beggar in the area describes Halas down to the mole on his neck. Also, the guards at the gate remember Halas walking in through the rain."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 06



What he doesn't mention is that all those "witnesses" have different allegiances than what people think. Raynolt suppressed an urge to laugh uncontrollably.

He strode to the center of the room and faced the council. "What say you?" It was sudden, but the shock of Daminus' body was too much pressure to pass up. He had them.

The council cast scared looks at each other. "Guilty," Sura said, staring hate-filled eyes at Halas' bound body. 

The rest of the council followed quickly. "Guilty."

It was music to Raynolt's ears. "Guards! Remove Halas to the dungeons." He signaled two of his 10th Tier Magi. "Maintain the binding spells." They nodded and walked out with the guards.

Everything was happening so fast that everyone was frozen in place. Now was the time to drive the dagger home. "Everyone but the 8th Tier sit down please."

They were several minutes of shuffling as everyone sought to find a seat and a grip on what was happening. The 8th Tier remained standing, casting nervous glances at each other.

Raynolt addressed them. "I'm sorry for the haste, but you must elect a new Master. Now."

"N...now?" one Magi asked, swallowing as he said it.

Raynolt nodded. "I'm sure the council agrees with me. We need to elect a new Grand Master now before any other...madness happens."

The council nodded, looking up at the 8th Tier members. Lenard covered Daminus' body and told the guards to take it away. He then stepped forward into the room. "I submit my name for consideration."

His fellow 8th Tier members blinked. Come on! Raynolt knew he had them. His dream was within reach. He quickly counted the standing members; there were 28 members of the 8th Tier currently in the room.

No one else stepped forward. Raynolt waited several moments before asking, "Is there anyone else?"

Once again, no one stepped forward. One woman bit her lip and opened her mouth, but then thought better of it. "I vote for Lenard," she said instead.

That was all it took. The rest of the members looked relieved that someone else had made the decision. They all quickly added their votes.

"Lenard Demps, on behalf of the Council of Magi, and on behalf of the position of Grand Master, I welcome you to the council."

Lenard nodded his thanks. Everything was happening perfectly. Raynolt could barely believe it. No plan goes off this perfect!

"Now, it's time to hear candidates for the position of Grand Master." Raynolt had never felt more nervous in his life. Who was his competition? The rest of the council was not even powerful enough for the position. Nobody in his Tier would dare go against him.

"There is no need," Morgana said, standing up. "Anyone that can defeat and capture a Magi Victus, and who has always spoken out in favor of war with them, has my vote. I vote for Raynolt Teryus."

"As do I," Lenard added.

Sura stood up. Raynolt almost groaned. Is she going to put her name in? She gave Raynolt a hard look. "I can't wait to see that bastard Halas burn. I vote for Raynolt Teryus."

Raynolt almost ogled her. Where did that come from? She must really feel betrayed by Halas. With three votes already cast, and no one more powerful than him, the rest of the council stood up.

"I vote for Raynolt Teryus."

Raynolt nearly wept.

***

The let him see the sunset. It was kind of them. They even clothed him, not that it mattered much to him.

Alio knelt in the garden square of the Emporium. The sun was sinking below the horizon, casting everything in a pale orange light. The grass and leaves were still sparkling from the previous night's showers.

It was a good day to die.

The captain of the Emporium guards stood behind him. The council of Magi stood arrayed in front of him. The new Grand Master Raynolt Teryus stepped forward. "Have you any last words?"

He saw the council shift their stances. He almost smiled. No, I don't have any more earth-shattering secrets to harm you with. Too bad.

"Well?" Raynolt asked, looking annoyed.

For some reason, something made Alio look up into the leaves of the tall oak in front of him. He saw Sanje squatting on a branch. He was weeping.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked back at Raynolt. 

"I am free," he whispered.

He hung his head and felt the hot tears slide down his cheeks. His only wish was that his son was with him, here at the end.

He heard movement behind him. The captain had drawn his sword. The wind stirred the leaves on the ground and caressed his face. He was going home.

He never felt the blow that severed his head from his shoulders.

***

Raynolt and his entourage hurried down the hallway. This would have to be done quickly. No doubt he would have to be taken by surprise.

"Now," he whispered to Lenard as they rounded a corner. The man leading him turned around and frowned. He was non-Magi and wouldn't know anything was amiss. Lenard spoke quietly and weaved his fingers through the air. His 8th Tier protection spell settled over Raynolt.

Raynolt finished his protection spell as they arrived at a small set of double-doors. The spell settled over Lenard's. The man stopped by the door and turned around. "Wait here," he said brusquely. He opened the door and shut it behind him.

"Tell the men to be ready for my signal," Raynolt whispered. He heard Lenard give the order to the select Magi he had brought along.

I can't kill him yet, but I will make sure he doesn't disrupt my plans. Even with the added protection from Lenard, he felt scared. And excited. It was an odd mix.

The door opened and the man stuck his head out. "He will see you now, Grand Master."

Raynolt smiled at hearing his title. It wasn't completely official yet; he still had the swearing-in ceremony to go through. But legally, he was the Grand Master of the Emporium.

He nodded to Lenard and walked through the door. It was shut behind him. Raynolt quickly opened himself to the magic as soon as he walked in and began weaving his fingers. 

His hands froze half-way through. His eyes bulged out of his head as his mouth clamped shut. This is impossible! I am protected by 8th Tier and 10th Tier protection spells!

He stared in fear at the dark man seated at a small table. He was apparently buttering his toast. He looked up. His eyes shone silver.

"Grand Master for 5 minutes and already trying your luck, eh Raynolt?"

King Reynar chuckled. He waved his hand and Raynolt was released. He finished buttering his toast and held it out toward him. "Would you like some toast?"

***

Note: Once again, I would like to thank everyone who has read these stories and have commented. First I want to apologize for the delay of this chapter. Evidently the reviewer had an issue with my italizing. Then you have to wait another 3 days to post it again. So stupid...anyways, I just want to inform the few people who eagerly await each chapter that they I may take an extended break to finish the story. That way the chapters will be released quickly. Each chapter has had declining views and its a little disheartening. I feel like not many people are reading this and that makes it hard to write. So please leave comments to let me know you love this story!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 07



Note: First of all, I want to say how touched I was by the outpouring of support after my last chapter. I was given new determination and enthusiasm. I don't care about views or votes now. I am writing for all of you! Now for the bad news...I bet some of you were probably thinking that the delay in posting this chapter came because I said I wanted to finish the story before posting. Well, what is it that they say about best laid plans? Personal issues cropped up and I was not at home to continue writing.

However, everything has been taken of and I will be writing like a speed demon. Expect the next few chapters to come quickly. I am really excited about where this story is going. I hope you are too. Once again, thanks to all of your support!

***

"Where is he?" Sophina asked, for what had to be the tenth time. She paced around the room in a furious temper.

"Will you sit down?" Ashford asked in exasperation. 

Sophina ignored him, as she had done all day. She hated being trapped like this. The lack of windows and the disorientation of time were wearing her thin. She had not been outside since the night before. Now she had no idea what time it was or where Jon was.

Damn him! She nearly growled out loud as she completed yet another circuit around the living room. The fact that she spent a sleepless night next to Evelyn already put her in a bad mood. Her worry for her was overwhelming. She needed to see the sun and feel the wind on her face.

Instead, she felt helpless and trapped and hunted. She was a prisoner of circumstance. Jon had come back from his meeting with Marcus looking pale. Then he said he had business to take care of and warned them to not even think about leaving. He took off without another word.

"What is he planning?" she growled to herself. "He is making us prisoners! I have been in these same stinking clothes for too long now. The God knows if I will ever be able to see another bathhouse or steam room again!"

Ashford sighed. "Will you calm down? He will be back; then in the days ahead, if you live that long, you will wish for this quiet day again with all your heart."

She laughed bitterly. "Do you really think dying out there is worse than being trapped in here, with no way out or any idea what's going on out there?"

He shook his head. "Sometimes I forget what it's like to be so young. How old are you?"

She folded her arms beneath her breasts and gave him a level look. "Twenty-six," she finally said, her eyes daring him to make fun of her.

"That's what I thought. Listen, girl, age breeds patience. I am 200 years old and I finally know the true value of patience. But sometimes life forces a person to adapt early. So sit down, shut up, and enjoy what peace you can."

Sophina bristled at the word "girl" and listened to the rest of his speech with gritted teeth. She vented her anger now. "I will have you know that I have experienced more in twenty-two years than most soldiers have experienced in fifty. I have stood ankle-deep in blood-soaked mud and listened to the wails of dying men, many of them friends that stood shoulder to shoulder with me for the whole damn war. I have killed at an age most girls are still playing with dolls. I have-"

"Peace!" Ashford shouted, holding out his hand. "I get it, alright? Look...why don't you go check on Evelyn?"

Sophina felt her anger drain away. She collapsed down in a chair and rested her forehead on her hands. "I can't!" she whispered desperately.

"Why not?"

Sophina stared at the floor between her hands and searched for an answer. "I can't...I don't know how to help her. I've tried everything to bring her back. But she just lays there and stares vacantly at nothing, like there is nothing inside of her. I don't know what to do...I am so lost." She blinked back tears. I won't let him see my cry! I need to be strong.

"Evelyn is beyond your help," Jon replied, coming down the stairs.

Sophina looked up. Jon threw off his cloak and sank down into a chair. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the table next to him and poured himself a glass. He leaned his head back and took a sip. His face was grim. Sophina feared with all her heart anything that could make Jon Laurent worried.

"What the hell is going on?" Ashford barked. He leaned forward in his seat to address him. "Where have you been? What did that beggar tell you?"

Sophina scowled and wiped her eyes. I won't be afraid! "Forget that, I want to know what you meant about Evelyn."

Jon looked at Ashford with an ice-cold stare. "His name is Marcus. You would do well to remember that."

Ashford looked away from that stare and mumbled, "Well, where have you been?"

Jon didn't answer either of them right away. He slowly drank his wine and stared into the fire. Finally, he said, "Evelyn lost her soul-mate. Soul-mates are very rare and not much is known about that bond. But the one thing that is well known is that a person who suffers the death of their soul-mate never recovers from it. They simply...exist. They very quickly waste away and die."

Sophina gasped. "That's horrible! Why would anyone ever want to enter into that kind of bond?"

Jon turned his head toward her. She saw so much ancient pain in those eyes that she almost winced. "Sometimes people don't have a choice. If you ever find your soul-mate, you are drawn to them like a moth to flame...no matter that the fire will consume you." He turned back toward the fire that was burning happily in the fireplace. Sophina thought he stared longingly into it, as though he wished he were that moth that had the courage to fly so close to the flames.

He speaks from experience, Sophina suddenly realized. Did he have a soul-mate? No...he said a person can't survive the death. What then?

She shook her head. That man is clothed in secrets. To know one of his secrets would unravel them all. "What can we do for her?"

"I will try to figure something out," he replied. He drained his glass of wine and poured another one.

"Why do you care?" Ashford asked.

Sophina glanced at him, surprised. He sounded genuinely interested. He must not be the only one intrigued by Jon's air of mystery.

But Jon spoke as though he didn't hear Ashford. "As to where I have been tonight, you won't like the answer. Marcus brought me grave information. So I went out and gathered more information."

He paused and took a sip of wine. "Raynolt Teryus moves faster that we thought. Grand Master Boltus is dead. Raynolt has already been elected as the new Grand Master."

Sophina closed her eyes and groaned. She looked up again and saw Ashford sitting back in his chair, stunned. He opened his mouth several times before finally croaking, "What? How?"

"Boltus was murdered last night when we were attacked. The official word is that the Magi Victus are responsible for his death as well as the deaths of Darrius Northwood and Edmund Defoure."

Sophina rubbed her temples and tried to sort through all the new information. She hated this kind of thinking; she was a simple soldier and cared nothing for politics. "And I suppose they blame us, as well."

Jon shook his head. "Actually, they did us a favor. Raynolt is more devious than I thought. Or I should say Sanje is. Somehow he convinced a Magi Victus to turn himself in to the Magi, who then blamed a Magi named Halas Winstrum for hiring them to assassinate Boltus."

Ashford sat up with a jolt. "Halas? They conspired to lay the blame on Halas? But why?"

"From what I understand, Halas is somewhat of a power player in your guild, am I right?'

Ashford's eyes widen in shock. "I understand now! Yes, you are right. Halas would have been the main competition for Raynolt. In fact, knowing how some of the council members feel about Raynolt, I would bet that Halas might have won. But how did he convince the council that Halas conspired against them? Don't tell me they took that Magi Victus at his word!"

Jon snorted. "You should know better than that. They found Daminus' body. They made it look like he had been killed by magecraft and then planted all the evidence needed to convict Halas for his murder. Daminus would have been the leading candidate for the Grand Master position. You Magi are so ambitious that no one thought twice about the possibility of a Magi daring to hire the Magi Victus to assassinate the Grand Master."

Sophina tried her best to keep up, but the conversation was quickly getting away from her. "I don't understand. If nobody really liked Raynolt, did why did they elect him?"

It was Ashford who answered her. "Because there was nobody strong enough to stand up to him. We Magi tend to defer to the most powerful members. All it would take is one vote to open the flood-gates." 

"And now Raynolt moves quickly to declare war on the Magi Victus," Jon continued. "As of this moment, he is in the palace with King Reynar."

Ashford put his face in his hands and moaned. Sophina looked between Jon and Ashford, trying desperately to keep up. "But...he can't just do that right?"

Jon gave her a pitying look. "The Grand Master and the King have absolute power when it comes to war. The council has no say. The Grand Master is suppose to speak with the voice of the council in these matters."

"But the King will refuse, won't he? Raynolt can't touch him; Ashford's shield is still protecting him, right?"

Jon nodded. "Yes, but without the council and the support of the Grand Master, Raynolt can all but imprison the King and force him to go along with whatever he desires. Raynolt will make sure to remove any potential ally that might come to the King's defense. The King will be alive, yes, but completely powerless."

Sophina sat in stunned silence. That man has seized power so fast...I hate politics! "What does he want? Why is he doing all this?"

Ashford laughed. "You mean, besides the desire for power?"

"It can't be that simple! Can it?" She looked hesitantly toward Jon.

Jon took a moment to think about his answer. "Power is certainly a powerful motive...but no, I think there is more to this. Why is Sanje working with him? Why is he willing to sacrifice the Magi Victus? And what is his goal?"

Sophina shook her head. "All of this is going to give me a headache."

Jon laughed softly. "You aren't the only one. Sometimes I long for the simpler days when you saw your enemy on the battlefield and tried your best to kill them before they killed you."

Sophina grinned. "Now you are speaking my language."

"Can we get back to the topic at hand?" Ashford grunted. "What are we going to do? We can't resume our lives until Raynolt is dead and the threat to the King is laid to rest."

"Can't you...just take care of him?" Sophina asked, looking at Jon.

"Thank you for the compliment. But I'm not all powerful, I'm afraid. Even I can't take out the whole Emporium to get to him. And as long as I am alive, he will be sure to walk around with extra protection."

Sophina grimaced and nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I guess I got carried away...but what about Sanje? Can't you get rid of him?"

Jon laughed. "I would love too, believe me. However, I doubt Sanje will surface anywhere I can find him. We Magi Victus are very good at staying in the shadows."

"But isn't he the Master of your guild? Can't you stage an attack on your hideout? No Magi Victus would be able to stop you," Ashford added.

Jon shook his head, bemused. "The fact that Sanje is still alive should tell you something, shouldn't it? There is no hideout; we aren't stupid enough to gather in one place for the Magi to wipe us out. The Master has a way of communicating with every member. And when we do need to gather, a temporary location is chosen for that specific meeting. Otherwise, we never see each other."

"There is absolutely no place that the Magi Victus gather?" Ashford pressed.

Jon swirled the wine in his glass, buying time to think. "There is one place, but not even I will disturb that place," Jon finally said. He looked and saw the frown on Ashford's face. "Some things are still sacred, even to me. Drop it."

They digested this statement in silence. "What we need is a way to bring them to us," Sophina said musingly. Like that's possible...

"But what we need to do first is to rescue King Reynar," Ashford added.

"Actually, what we need to do first is find a bathhouse," Sophina said, grinning.

Ashford rolled his eyes and Jon smiled. "You will need disguises first," Jon replied. "How attached are you to your blonde hair?" he asked Sophina.

Sophina grabbed the ends of her hair and groaned.

***

Raynolt could only stare at King Reynar in stunned silence. I don't believe it! It's impossible!

Reynar held out the piece of toast for a moment longer before shrugging his shoulders. "If you aren't going to have any toast then, please, sit down and join me. We have much to discuss."

Reynar's serving man pulled out the chair directly across from Reynar. Raynolt was still too shocked to move. Everything he had worked for was falling to pieces. All my plans...wasted.

The servant quirked his eyebrow at Raynolt and then shared a small smile with Reynar. "I believe you have completely caught the poor Grand Master off guard, my lord."

Reynar chuckled and took a bite from his toast. He talked around the toast in his mouth as he said, "Please, Raynolt, have a seat. Looking up at you is putting a kink in my neck. And release your magic, please."

Raynolt shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the cobwebs that clung to it. He dropped rather gracelessly into the chair offered to him. He cleared his throat to speak, hoping that the tremble in his voice was not noticeable. "King Reynar...I...don't know what to say..."

Why is he acting so calmly? He must know that I have been trying to kill him. What is he after?

Before Raynolt released his power, he took the opportunity to study the king. He saw what he expected to see; a tightly woven magical shield. To most eyes, it would look like a very complex series of runes. But Raynolt saw deeper; he saw how the shield was woven of two different set of runes. It was...beautiful, really.

Reynar finished his piece of toast and wiped his mouth with an elaborately embroidered cloth napkin. He set his forearms on the table and gave Raynolt a firm look. "I know you have been trying to assassinate me, Raynolt."

Raynolt said nothing. He felt sweat trickle down his cheek. Reynar paused for a moment before continuing. "I have kept my eye on you for quite a while now. You are a man whose reach will always exceed his grasp. You really thought you could dispose of a royal line that goes back 3,000 years in order to make yourself king? A royal line that was decreed by the God to govern the people of this country?"

He paused again and this time Raynolt knew he expected an answer. How should I play this? Are my plans really dashed or is there some hope left? He had no time to think. He would have to trust his instincts. "Do you really believe that the God came down from the heavens to declare your bloodline king of all men?"

Reynar smiled, as though he was expecting that very question. "And what would it mean if you disposed of me and took the crown?"

Raynolt shifted in his chair, feeling his fear slowly fade. Reynar spoke as though he were truly interested in his opinion. Raynolt suddenly knew that his life was not yet in danger. "It would mean that it was nothing more than myth and legend that made your line the ruler of men."

Reynar frowned thoughtfully as he plucked a grape from a bowl on the table. He chewed the grape slowly as he studied Raynolt. Raynolt shifted again, already hating that penetrating gaze. "And thus you would destroy the foundation that the Magi have crafted over the last 3,000 years. The people obey our rule because they believe in our divine right to govern them with absolute power. Dispose of me and the country will crumble."

Raynolt frowned. "Your logic is flawed; we rule through fear. We control the very element of creation. The people accept our rule because they know we would crush them if they ever rebelled."

Reynar laughed softly to himself. "That's your problem, Raynolt; you could never see past your own ambition. If you knew your history, you would share my point of view."

"I've studied the histories," Raynolt snapped angrily. "What event are you referring to?"

Reynar sat back in his chair and spread his hands out. "I speak of the founding of Astuari, of course. Do you know what this country was like before the Order of 12?"

"Of course; I'm not an idiot. This country was ruled by various Warlords."

Reynar lifted his finger, as though he had scored a point. "Precisely! The Warlords ruled with fear. And look what happened to them."

Raynolt leaned forward in his seat and lifted his own finger. "And they would still rule if it were for the fluke discovery of magic."

"Now your logic is flawed, Raynolt. The Warlords were not toppled from the discovery of magic; they were toppled because the people rose up against them."

Reynar smiled and popped another grape into his mouth. Did he invite me here for a philosophical debate? Raynolt suppressed his annoyance and changed the subject. "What do you want from me? It's clear you aren't keeping me alive just to engage in this silly debate."

Reynar sighed. "Truly, I miss conferring with an equal. I find my days filled with...boredom. You disappoint me, Raynolt."

Raynolt felt his face flush. "I am more than your equal!" he spat.

Reynar shook his head. "You lack true intelligence. Did you see how easily I bound you when you came in?"

Raynolt hadn't forgotten. His face flushed deeper. "You...used some type of trickery unknown to me, that's all."

"No, I used my brain. Do you think I would have this shield that is constantly protecting me and never take the time to study it? I discovered that protection spells have some gaping holes, once you know what to look for." He sighed deeper and sank back in his chair. "I already miss Boltus. He wasn't my equal, either, but he was a lot closer than you are."

Raynolt stood up, knocking over his chair in the process. "You dare insult me? You may have surprised me for now, but it will never happen again! Once I get rid of Ashford, I will kill you myself!"

Reynar's dark eyes hardened. His gaze was as sharp as steel. Raynolt felt his fear come flooding back. Reynar stood up slowly and leaned over the table. "Sit down, before I decide I don't need you."

Raynolt quickly picked up his chair with shaking hands and sat down. He had never felt a more powerful presence than the aura Reynar gave off now. He could snuff out his life as easily as he could swat a fly.

Reynar sat back down in his chair. "Now, let's discuss the reason why you are still alive. You brought a document with you, did you not?"

Raynolt felt yet another shock. How does he know all of this? "Yes...I did."

Reynar held out his hand. "Well?"

Raynolt reached into the pocket on his robe and pulled out a thick piece of parchment rolled up into a scroll. Reynar took it from him and unrolled it. His eyes shifted back and forward as he read it.

Reynar smiled and set the document on the table. "So, war with the Magi Victus? I suppose you came here to threaten me into signing it, didn't you?"

Raynolt swallowed before speaking. "That was the plan."

Reynar nodded. He looked up at his servant standing in the corner of the room. "Sereph, my quill please."

Raynolt looked between them, confused. His confusion increased when the servant brought a long, feathered quill and some ink. Reynar flattened the parchment on the table and dipped his pen in the ink.

"You're signing?" Raynolt asked in disbelief.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 07



Reynar scratched his signature onto the document and then looked up. "Of course. Why do you think you are still alive? Your goals are aligned with mine, for the time being."

Raynolt slouched in his chair in stunned silence as the servant dripped wax onto the bottom of the parchment. He handed Reynar the royal seal. Reynar pressed the seal into the wax and rolled the parchment up. He handed it to Raynolt.

Raynolt took it hesitantly. "What if I didn't want war with the Magi Victus?"

"You already know the answer to that. I took no action while Boltus was Grand Master because I respected him, though I disagreed with his stance on the Magi Victus. He was a good man and close to the end of his life. I can be patient when needed. Once I found out about your plot, I decided not to intervene."

He knew about my plans? He knows too much. That decides it; there is a spy somewhere in my circle. But who? Aloud he said, "You allowed Boltus to die?"

"It was a necessary sacrifice," he said regretfully. He closed his eyes for a moment. "So many sacrifices..." He seemed to be speaking to himself.

"But why do you wish war with the Magi Victus?"

Reynar opened his eyes and gave him a quizzical look. "Are you reasons not good enough for me as well?"

"I don't think it's as simple as my reasons. I sense that you have a more complex plan."

"So there is some intelligence there," Reynar teased him. Raynolt felt his face flush again but Reynar continued before he could say anything. "Very well, I will tell you my true purpose. The Magi Victus need to be eliminated in order to save the world."

He sat back in his chair and gave him a sly smile. "Save the world?" Raynolt repeated. He shook his head. "What nonsense is this?"

"That is all you need to know," Reynar said brusquely. "Now, I understand you have men out looking for Evelyn Ventus. Have you had any luck finding her?"

"No," he replied slowly. "Why?"

Reynar shrugged, as though it was of no importance to him. "I would like to be informed if you do find her. But forget about that for now. I have one more piece of business to discuss with you tonight." He pointed at the scroll in Raynolt's hands. "That order to eliminate the Magi Victus does not extend to Jon Laurent. I want him captured alive."

"I see Jon Laurent isn't just a thorn in my side," Raynolt said slowly. "You want him alive? You might as well try to catch the sunlight in your hands. That man is too powerful to take alive."

"So you think. But again, we come back to the idea of intelligence," Reynar replied. "Do you know why I am a much more powerful Magi than you?"

"No, please enlighten me," Raynolt said through gritted teeth.

"Because I use my brain. All Magi are born on equal footing. One Magi is not given more access to magical energy than anyone else. Magic is infinite, as is our access to it. So, what then, makes one Magi more powerful than another?"

"Are you going to lecture me on the basics of magic all day long or do you have a point?" Raynolt said. He hated how he treated him like an ignorant child. I was the youngest Magi to ever enter the Emporium!

"You might learn something about power if you listen. What determines a Magi's power is a combination of focus, intelligence, and various physical attributes. Focus deals with casting spells. Physical attributes like endurance play a vital role in magical power. Casting spells, as you know, is not just mentally draining, but physically draining as well. Also, the dexterity of your hands helps with the manipulation of spells."

"But intelligence, my dear Raynolt, is what truly separates Magi. The more you understand the nature and complexity of the language of creation, the more powerful you will become."

"I have a perfect grasp of the language!" Raynolt cut in angrily.

"Do you really? Tell me, how many spells have you invented yourself?" Reynar paused and waited for Raynolt's response.

"Does it matter?" he finally replied. Inside, he was seething with anger and embarrassment.

"You strut around the halls of the Emporium, impressed that you can cast complex spells faster than anybody else. But all you know is what other Magi have already discovered for you. You are nothing more than a well-trained parrot."

The anger inside of Raynolt was reaching a boiling point. It was even more frustrating to know there was nothing he could do against Reynar.

"I study the language itself. I continuously strive to understand the reasoning behind each word and phrase. As a result, I am far beyond any Magi in the Emporium. My knowledge of the language has granted me power the likes of which you have never seen."

Reynar fell silent. Raynolt struggled to get control of his anger. "What does any of this have to do with Jon Laurent?" And I will take your advice, Reynar. The next time I attack you, you will be very surprised for the split second before I take your life

"You said that Jon Laurent was too powerful to take alive. I spoke to you of intelligence to open your mind to the truth. Have you ever asked yourself why? Why is Jon Laurent so much more powerful than the rest of the Magi Victus?"

Raynolt searched his mind for an intelligent answer. He was tired of looking like a fool. "It's hard to say. We have never discovered the secret behind those Shadow Daggers. Your answer lies there."

Reynar shook his head in disappointment. "The Shadow Daggers offer protection from spells and can penetrate magical barriers. But why is Jon Laurent so good? No other Magi Victus is even close to him in power. You think a dagger, no matter how powerful, has anything to do with that?"

Raynolt shrugged. "I tire of these mind games."

"Intelligent conversation is very hard to come by," Reynar muttered in disgust. "Did you not recently lose three members of your Tier?"

Raynolt felt his eye twitch. He stilled his features to calmness. "I didn't even tell the council about them yet. How do you know these things?"

"Never mind how I know. How do you think they died?"

Where is he going with this? "Jon Laurent was helped that night. I believe Evelyn Ventus and Ashford Caulston both helped him enough to kill my men."

"So you believe a 5th Tier and 9th Tier Magi were powerful enough to kill all three of your men?" Reynar asked skeptically.

Raynolt hesitated a moment, but could not think of any other possibility. "Who else could have killed them? Job and Elyus were killed by magecraft."

Reynar leaned in eagerly. "And yet you do not believe that Evelyn and Ashford are capable of that type of power. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. You are fairly certain that the only people in that house were Jon Laurent, Evelyn and Daminus Ventus, and Ashford Caulston?"

"Yes, my men have already searched the house thoroughly. Those were the only people there that night."

"If you don't really believe they were killed by two weaker Magi, then what other possibility is there?" Reynar asked tauntingly.

Raynolt didn't like where this was going. He can't really be suggesting what I think he is? This from the man who preaches about intelligence? "I know what you are suggesting, but it's impossible. Even if it was possible, he never trained in the Emporium and would be nowhere near powerful enough to kill three of my best men."

Reynar smiled knowingly. He leaned back in his chair and seemed to be contemplating something. Finally he said, "Oh, it's certainly possible. In fact, I'm afraid it's true. Jon Laurent is a Magi."

His statement hung in the air before registering in Raynolt's mind. He felt sweat run down his back. He could tell from Reynar's posture that he wasn't joking. He actually believes it... "Here I thought I was the fool. Now I just think your loneliness and desperate need for intelligent conversation has driven you mad. We have tried several times to infiltrate the Magi Victus. They can spot us almost instantly. Jon Laurent would have been killed within a day of joining."

"Nevertheless, Jon Laurent is a Magi. Like I told you earlier, I have studied my histories. I know who Jon Laurent is."

"Histories?" Raynolt asked, baffled. "Are you suggesting that Jon Laurent is a historical figure?"

Reynar didn't respond; he just smiled. Raynolt couldn't help it; he threw back his head and laughed. "You are mad!"

He continued to laugh until his ribs hurt. He wasn't even sure why he was laughing so hard. There was something in the back of his mind that he refused to acknowledge. The thought floated up anyways. What other possibility is there? And if Jon Laurent is indeed a Magi, he would have to be a historical figure. Otherwise, I would have recognized him during his time at the Emporium.

His laughter slowly died off; fear replaced it. "Who is he?" he asked reluctantly.

Reynar shook his head. "I'm not going to give you all my secrets. I told you about intelligence in the hope that you can figure some things out for yourself. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a busy night ahead of me. And you have a war to prepare for."

Raynolt blinked at the sudden dismissal, but then stood as the servant opened the door. He turned to leave when Reynar's next words stopped him cold. "Oh, Raynolt, don't think I have forgotten the fact that you killed three of my best friends and intend to kill a fourth. When the day comes that I no longer need you, I will kill you slowly and with great pleasure."

Raynolt turned around slowly and then wished he hadn't. The look that Reynar gave him sent a sliver of ice down his spine. He saw the truth in those eyes. He turned from that murderous glare and quickly left the room.

"What happened in there?" Lenard asked as Raynolt joined him in the hallway.

Raynolt shook his head and started walking. He needed to re-evaluate his plans. He knew what his first order of business would be; flushing out the traitor.

***

Reynar watched Raynolt leave and released the breath he had been holding. It had taken all his strength not to tear him limb from limb.

Sereph turned from the door. "Well, that certainly was interesting."

Reynar sighed. "I hate having to use that man. I would much rather avenge my friends. But he is perfectly placed to carry out my plans."

"It is necessary, my lord. If it comforts you, I think he may have pissed in his robes at that last threat."

Reynar chuckled. "You know what? It does comfort me. Not as much as tearing out his arms and beating him to death with them...but I will settle for now."

Sereph cleared the table as he spoke. "Was it really necessary to taunt him with all those secrets? Despite what you think, Raynolt is very sharp and perceptive. The strong hints of the spy in his ranks, in particular, are what scare me."

Reynar waved his hand absently. "He won't figure out anything I don't want him too. I want him focused on finding the spy. That way, my plans won't be jeopardized by his meddling."

Sereph nodded. "Once again, your mind goes in different directions than anyone else. You are always two moves ahead. Now I understand why you told him you discovered Jon Laurent's true identity from the histories. I can just envision him spending many countless hours searching the library of the Emporium looking for that knowledge."

Reynar smiled in satisfaction. "I wonder how long it will take him to realize that his identity won't be found in those books." He frowned and gazed at something only his mind could see. "Jon Laurent...I would see him dead at my feet."

Sereph walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "He will die eventually. Your plan will work. You will save the world."

Reynar stood up and walked to the window. His eyes searched the night. "I need to find her, Ser. She is the key. I need to find her before Jon figures it out."

"She will be found, my lord. I have several of our best men looking for her as we speak."

Reynar sighed and turned away from the window. "Sometimes I regret what I found in Raves. My life would be easier right now. Ignorance truly is bliss."

"You would be dead right now," Sereph replied gently. "You know that. That's why you went searching in Raves. Without the knowledge you found there, Jon Laurent would win and the world would be doomed."

"I have made so many sacrifices, Ser," he replied. "I hope they will be worth it. And I hope I have enough strength to defeat Laurent."

Sereph stepped toward him. "You do. He may have a little more experience, but..."

Reynar laughed. "A little more? The man has been alive for almost 3,000 years."

*** 

Sophina opened the bedroom door slowly and peeked inside. Evelyn was still sitting in the chair by the bed, exactly as Sophina had seen her the last time she checked on her. She sighed to herself and walked inside. Evelyn was staring vacantly at the wall. 

Sophina approached her and squatted on her heels. She grabbed her hand and said, "Evelyn? I am going to take you to the bathhouse with me. And you are going to get a nice haircut. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Evelyn gave no indication that she had even heard her. Sophina squeezed her hand and stood up. She pulled on her hand until she got Evelyn on her feet. Evelyn's body still worked, but her mind was gone. She walked whenever Sophina pulled her and would stop whenever Sophina stopped.

It's like she's a puppet, Sophina thought sadly. She led Evelyn into the living room where Jon and Ashford were waiting for her.

"Here, put these on," Jon said, throwing her two black cloaks. She wrapped Evelyn in the cloak and pulled the hood over her head. She did the same for herself.

Jon nodded. "Keep the hoods pulled low. We will be staying in Beggar's Hell so we don't have to go far. The bathhouses here aren't as nice as other districts, but there is less of a chance of being spotted here. Besides, I am somewhat protected here," he finished quietly.

Sophina glanced at Ashford, who shrugged. "Why is that?" she asked.

Jon looked up, as though just recalling where he was at. "Nevermind. Let's go." He strode up the stairs, leading the way.

Sophina sighed in relief when she walked out into the night. It was good to be outside again. They made their way out of the ruined house and into the streets. Jon kept them close together. Sophina continued to pull Evelyn along. She kept her other hand on her sword, constantly scanning the streets for any threat.

She felt naked without her armor, but she knew she would stand out like a sore thumb. She didn't need to Jon to point that out as he did earlier that night. He seemed distracted when he told her to get Evelyn ready for the bathhouse and the barber.

"You are a fugitive now, so you must learn to move unseen and unmarked," he had told her with a distracted air. He ran his hand through his hair and then gave her a sharp look. "You must always be wary, Sophina. Trust no one and expect the worst; that way you will never be surprised. Are you any good with that sword?"

The change of topic had startled her. There was something about his behavior that frightened her. "I am good enough," she had finally managed to say. He only nodded his head and left her to take care of Evelyn. 

Sophina focused her attention on the present. She was glad that Jon had allowed her to bring her sword and the dagger that she hid in her boot. She wouldn't dare step outside if she didn't have at least a couple of weapons on her.

Jon quickly led the way to a run-down building several blocks from his house. Yellow light poured from the windows and the open doorway. Sophina looked at the other buildings on the street. If there were any other businesses, they were already closed for the night. The only source of light came from this bathhouse.

"Are you sure about this?" Ashford asked, the distaste plain in his voice.

"You could continue to smell like an unwashed beggar if you want," Jon replied.

Sophina smirked and led Evelyn into the bathhouse, past a grumbling Ashford. The proprietor walked up to Jon with a wide smile on his face. He was a tall man with dark eyes and a hooked nose. "Master Laurent! It's good to see you again, my friend." His eyes swept over Sophina and Ashford. "I see you brought some companions to my humble bathhouse."

Jon removed a heavy bag from his belt and pulled open the drawstrings. "It's good to see you again, Tom. My friends here are in need of a bath. A private bath," he added. The silver in his hands glistened in the lamplight.

Tom's smile widened as his eyes darted to Jon's outstretched hand. "Of course, of course! Anything for you, Master Laurent." He walked behind his counter and pulled a small bell from underneath it. He rang it as he extended his smile to everyone in the room. Sophina didn't like him. She couldn't put a finger on the reason why, but there was something not right with him.

Jon must have sensed that too because he said, "And I trust our visit here will go unnoticed?"

Tom bowed low to him. "That goes without saying, Master Laurent, as always."

A man and a woman appeared from the hallway behind the counter and bowed low. Tom turned to the man on the left and said, "Karp, please escort Master Laurent and his male companion to the men's bath." He turned to Sophina and gestured at her and Evelyn to the woman on the right. "Ladies, you can follow Helena here to your bath. She will see to all your needs."

Sophina nodded and pulled Evelyn's arm. She stopped when Jon spoke. "Remember what I told you earlier," he said. "Keep silent and talk to no one."

His gaze held her for several seconds before he turned and left with Ashford. She felt a small knot of fear in her stomach. What is he trying to tell me?

The proprietor watched the exchange with an avidness that Sophina didn't like. He smiled at her and motioned her to follow the woman. She kept her hand on her sword all the way down the hallway. She had a funny feeling that something odd was going on.

The hallway branched to the left and right. The woman turned right and Sophina pulled Evelyn along. The woman opened the door at the end of the hallway and held it open for them.

A long stone fireplace took up the entire far wall. Several cauldrons of water were hung over several of the fires. Several large tubs circled the room. The floor slanted down to the middle of the floor where the drain was located.

Two other women were already filling a tub with steaming water. "I shall prepare another bath," their escort said.

Sophina held out her hand. "That won't be necessary."

The woman bowed. "As you wish." In moments, the tub was filled. The other women bowed low to her and departed swiftly. Their escort turned toward them. "If you need anything, I will be on the other side of the door."

Sophina waited until she shut the door before she relaxed her hand on her sword. She didn't like this feeling of being on edge. She was beginning to regret her desire to go to a bathhouse. With a sudden clarity, she knew what being a fugitive truly meant. 

"Let's get cleaned up, shall we?" she asked Evelyn, trying desperately to make it sound like a great treat. Evelyn made no response but continued to stare vacantly at the wall. Sophina sighed and undressed Evelyn and led her to the tub. Sophina splashed her hand inside and decided the heat was tolerable. She had to pick Evelyn up in her arms and set her down carefully inside the tub. If the water was too hot, Evelyn showed no sign of distress. 

Sophina propped her sword up against the tub and quickly stripped off her clothes. She stepped into the tub and sighed with pleasure as the heat of the water sapped the weariness from her bones.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Once again, Evelyn made no response. At least she is sitting up and not letting herself drown. That has to mean something.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 07



In any other circumstance, Sophina wouldn't believe that she had Evelyn naked in a tub with her. But since the events of the other night, she felt strangely...detached. Looking at Evelyn's naked body was no more stimulating than seeing a child naked. That's what she is...a child. The woman I fell in love with is gone.

Sophina shook her head, trying to dispel those gloomy thoughts. She looked over at the stool next to the tub and discovered that the escort did not leave behind any soap or sponges. She sighed and stood up. "Wait here ok, Evelyn?"

She stepped over the tub and ran quickly to the door. The air was a lot cooler compared to the water. She reached for the door handle when she heard voices whispering behind the door. She frowned and pressed her ear against the door.

"I tell you, the women you are looking for are in there! Jon Laurent was down the other hallway, behind the door that you barred. You would believe me if you looked inside first."

"And get a Shadow Dagger in my face for my trouble? You better be right about this, Tom. I hope you didn't drag me away from the whorehouse for nothing. I would be most...displeased."

Sophina froze; the deep male voice sounded very familiar. With a sinking feeling, she recognized who it was. The door muffled most of his voice but it was unmistakably her fellow Emporium guard, Warren Lay. She thought it surreal how she had drunk him under the table only a few nights ago.

What is he doing here? Sophina feared that she already knew the answer. She ran back to the tub and grabbed her sword just at the door swung open. Warren stepped inside and stopped. His eyes widened as he took in Sophina's naked body and then widened more when he saw the sword.

"Sophina?" he asked incredulously. He shook his head. "I thought they were crazy when they said they wanted you found. What would Raynolt want with you?"

"You better get out of here, Warren. You are way in over your head."

"I can't, Sophina. I am under orders."

Sophina tightened her grip on the sword and moved to the middle of the room. "You are suppose to take me in, is that it?"

Warren shook his head sadly. "No, Sophina. I am to take into custody your companion over there. But you...you are to be killed on sight." He drew his sword as he spoke. The air filled with the deadly silence that precedes battle. 

The proprietor, Tom, peeked in the room and must have sensed the atmosphere because his eyes widened in alarm as he closed the door quickly. Sophina suppressed an urge to make a run for it. She knew the heavy door would cut off any sounds within the room. Help wouldn't be coming for her.

Sophina shifted her gaze back to Warren. "Emporium guards never kill on sight!"

Warren shifted his feet guiltily. The look he gave her was firm, however. Sophina cursed herself as she recalled what he had said previously. "You asked what Raynolt wanted with me. Is that who claims your allegiance now? You sold yourself out like a common whore."

Warren's pale face flushed beneath his steel helm. "What loyalty do I owe the Emporium? Raynolt pays much better."

"What loyalty?" Sophina spat. Her hand squeezed her sword angrily. "You swore an oath!"

Warren spat to the side. "That oath is meaningless, you know that. It's just a job, Sophina. I found a better one."

Sophina slid her feet apart on the warm stone floor and raised her sword. "You have no honor. You are nothing more than a common mercenary. As a guard of the Emporium, your death would have been honored. Now, as a mercenary, nobody will shed a tear."

"You overestimate your chances. I am wearing full armor and am much bigger and stronger. I doubt those small tits of yours will offer any protection from my blade."

Sophina cursed under her breath. I knew I should have worn my armor! Damn the consequences! She studied him warily. He was definitely much bigger. His shoulders were broad and his arms were as thick as her thighs. She knew that with all that armor she would have the advantage with endurance. But endurance would be no help against the strength of his blows.

"No more talk," he growled. He moved forward slowly, his sword leading the way.

Sophina gripped her sword tightly and moved slowly toward the tub with Evelyn. She risked a glance behind her and felt her heart sink. Evelyn was staring vacantly into the water. A small part of Sophina had hoped Evelyn would snap out of it and kill Warren with a single word and gesture. Now she was forced to do it herself.

Warren continued to slowly advance on her. His gaze flicked to Evelyn. "So it's true what they say; your companion really is witless. Too bad, I would have loved to battle two naked women at once."

The insult to Evelyn enraged Sophina. "You have more than you can handle with me!" She charged forward as fast as she could.

Warren started in surprise but quickly met Sophina head-on. She stabbed high for his unprotected face but he batted her sword aside with surprising speed. He brought his knee up and hit her full in the gut, the metal leggings driving deep into her ribs. Breath whooshed out of her as she crumpled over his knee. He brought the hilt of his sword down across her cheek.

Pain erupted on the side of her face as she fell to the floor. Lights dazzled her vision and her cheek felt like it was nothing more than shards of bone. Distantly, through the ringing of her ears, she heard his mocking laughter.

"Is that the best you got? I wanted a challenge. Get up and try again."

She rolled over and spat blood and a tooth onto the stone floor. Pain continued to radiate from her shattered cheek. Her vision cleared slowly. She found her sword on the floor next to her and used it to push herself to her feet. She straightened her back and fought the nausea that suddenly assaulted her.

"Let this be a lesson on predictability," he said as he smirked at her.

Sophina raised her sword again. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."

He laughed. "What, you think your friends are suddenly going to burst through the door? They are all the way across the building with two thick oak doors between you and them. Besides, I made sure their door was barred before I came over here. I am not stupid enough to take on Jon Laurent by myself. I am, however, going to collect the reward on you, personally."

Sophina took the opportunity during his speech to steady herself. The pain was making her head throb but it was manageable. She took a deep breath and advanced on him again. His smirk widened as he came to meet her.

This time she feinted a thrust at his face and brought her sword down and across. He read her feint easily and deflected her real attack. Sophina felt herself sink into the familiar warrior trance as their swords clanged together in the back and forth of their battle. The pain in her face receded into the back of her mind. She saw only Warren's sword. Her muscles reacted swiftly to deflect each blow. She was faster than him without all of her armor. But the strength of his blows sent ringing vibrations up her arms.

They moved around the room as they continued their battle. She kicked stools at him and moved behind the tubs to catch her breath. But he advanced on her relentlessly. Her sword clanged off his heavy breastplate several times but barely made a scratch. She realized that he was purposefully leaving openings. He used his armor to deflect blows and to create better openings for his sword to find a hole in her defenses.

Her arms were quickly growing tired. Her body was soaked in sweat and her muscles felt like they were on fire. She felt no satisfaction to see that Warren was quickly wearing down as well. He was, after all, wearing full-plate armor. But his blows were still strong enough to batter her sword. Her arms were going numb from deflecting his heavy blows.

"Now this is more like it," he grunted. He smirked in satisfaction as he slipped through her guard and scored a solid cut on her upper left arm.

She winced in pain and felt blood flowing freely down her arm. He pressed his advantage and soon added two more cuts; a relatively shallow cut above her right eye and a deeper one across the upper ribs on her left side. The cut across her ribs burned painfully. Blood gushed from the wound and ran down her side.

"You're done," he said, and followed his words with a vicious assault. She fell back against the tub where Evelyn was and it was all she could do to keep his sword away from her vital areas.

His sword bit deeply into her right forearm and nearly severed it. She screamed and dropped her sword. His mailed fist crunched against her nose and she fell to floor next to the tub. Her next moments were spent trying desperately to blink back the dark spots floating across her vision. She tasted warm blood as it poured from her ruined nose. She rested her head against the floor and gave it up.

Sorry Evelyn, I couldn't protect you. She waited for the final blow but felt nothing for several moments. She blinked her eyes several times before she could focus enough to see Warren standing above her. His sword hovered inches away from her face.

"You fought well," he said. "You say I am not a man of honor...but I am a soldier, just like you, and I honor your courage."

She reached desperately for her sword but he kicked it aside. Her right arm was useless anyways; pale white bone showed beneath the gash. She felt her life draining from all of her wounds. At least the pain was fading to a dull roar, no doubt due to her body shutting down. Her hands and feet were tingling.

She slowly sat up and leaned against the tub. His sword followed her every movement. She felt her left hand brush her boot. It was laying on its side next to her other boot and her neat pile of clothes. A small hope flickered inside her. I have to keep him distracted.

"You say you are a soldier, but you are nothing like me," she breathed through the blood in her mouth. She didn't like how her breath whistled in her lungs. She had heard that sound plenty of times on the battlefield; it was a death rattle. She pushed that thought away and inched her hand slowly inside her boot, praying fervently that he wouldn't notice.

"Don't pretend you are any better than me," he snarled. The sword jerked in his hand but he did not finish her.

Her finger touched something hard in her boot. She closed her hand around it. "Go to hell," she wheezed.

"Save a spot for me." He brought his sword back for the killing thrust.

With all the energy she had left in this life, she whipped her dagger from her boot and thrust it at the vulnerable area where his leg connected with his crotch and was unprotected by armor. She willed all her strength into her left hand and felt her dagger bite deep into his flesh.

He screamed in intense pain. His thrust deflected to the side and impaled her right shoulder to the tub behind her. Water burst through the hole and soaked her back. Warren fell to the ground and pulled the dagger from his crotch. Blood squirted and poured heavily onto the floor. He moaned and pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

She watched impassively as the life drained out of him. She was familiar with that wound. There was a major artery in that area that could quickly kill a man if severed. She leaned her head back. She could no longer feel her wounds. She felt almost giddy. 

He looked up at her, his face deathly pale. "Help me," he whispered.

She shook her head. "I'm dead, too," she croaked.

He whimpered and dragged himself across the floor. She watched, bemused, as he attempted to crawl toward the door, trailing a pool of blood behind him. If he was smart, he would have attempted to find something to bind his wound. Instead, panic had overtaken him and robbed him of his senses. Not that he ever had much sense, she thought bitterly.

He scratched feebly at the door for several moments before his head dropped to the floor. He was dead. Sophina felt little satisfaction in that. After all, she was soon to join him.

The door opened and smacked against Warren's head. The door was shoved open, moving Warren's body and smearing blood across the floor. Tom walked in hesitantly, followed by two men. His eyes widened when he saw Warren's body. He quickly scanned the room and spotted Sophina pinned to the tub and looking at him.

He shook his head. "I should thank you. You spared me the trouble of killing him in order to collect the reward. Now, to finish the job..." He nodded at the two men, who, judging from their filthy clothing and crude swords, were obviously hired thugs. "Kill her."

Sophina noticed a flicker of movement behind the proprietor. She smiled. "I think not," she whispered.

Tom frowned and then gasped as his back arched and his body shuddered. The two men whirled around as Tom's body fell to the floor, revealing Jon standing with his Shadow Dagger in hand. The man on the left stood rooted to the spot, frozen stiff. It wouldn't have mattered if he had been free to move; Jon's dagger punched through his throat before Tom's body completely hit the floor.

To his credit, the other man reacted swiftly. As his companion dropped to his knees and clutched his throat, he swung his sword at Jon's exposed side. Sophina wasn't sure, but either the man swung far off the mark or Jon moved so fast as to appear standing a foot away from where he was when the man swung. Either way, the result was the same. Jon punched his dagger into the man's chest three times before he had even completed his swing.

The man's body hit the floor and did not move. He was already dead. The other man wasn't quite so dead yet. He clutched his throat and kicked his legs feebly. His eyes were bulging out of his head. Jon bent over him and shoved his dagger into his chest. His Shadow Dagger parted flesh as easily as a man parted a whore's legs.

He wiped his dagger on the man's shirt and sheathed it back on his hip. He walked over to Sophina and knelt in front of her. He shook his head. "Look at you, I take you out for one night and you go and get yourself killed." His voice sounded cheerful but worry lines creased his forehead.

Sophina gulped in air and then coughed up blood. She found the breath to speak her thoughts. "Go to hell," she gasped.

He smiled and, without warning, pulled the sword out of her shoulder. She would have screamed if she didn't have so much blood in her lungs. She almost blacked out on the spot. "Get ready," he warned her. 

He laid his hands on her head. His eyes suddenly glowed silver. She didn't even have the energy to prepare herself. She started convulsing as the painful healing sped through her body. His magic stole everything it could from her body to shore up the wounds. She felt like dying as her cheek bone rearranged itself under her skin. The cuts pulled uncomfortably tight. Her nose popped audibly as it healed.

After what seemed like centuries, she stopped convulsing and slumped against the tub. Spots swam across her vision and she felt as weak as a newborn lamb. She couldn't even lift her arm. Her eyes felt heavy.

"Ashford, get in here and get Evelyn dressed. Quickly, man! Sophina is not out of the woods yet. Her wounds were too great; she may not live out the night. We must hurry."

She felt her eyes close shut. Really, dying isn't so bad. I feel...warm. Not bad at all...

Darkness took her, down, down, down...



Shadow Dagger Ch. 08



Raynolt ignored the guards guarding the double doors and strode swiftly past the threshold. He stopped. Damn him! I arrive late on purpose and that bastard isn't even here!

The council chamber in the palace was full with all ten Masters of the Emporium. With Raynolt's arrival, everyone was accounted for. Everyone, that is, except King Reynar. Raynolt had purposely arrived late so he could make a dramatic entrance, and reinforce to everyone here of his importance. The meeting could not start without him.

But once again, Reynar was wise to his plans. Raynolt cursed quietly under his breath and strode toward Lenard and Morgana, who were huddled together in the corner of the room.

Lenard noticed his approach and bowed his head. "Grand Master,' he greeted him. 

Morgana smirked at Lenard's show of subservience and gave Raynolt a smile. Raynolt stared coldly back at her until she blinked and dropped her head. "Grand Master," she said, her face coloring.

"Why am I not surprised to find you two together?" Raynolt demanded angrily. Are they plotting against me?

"We were just discussing your whereabouts," Lenard replied. "Morgana and I have scarce seen you since your meeting with King Reynar three days ago. We thought that odd since...we are aligned in our goals," he added, shooting a furtive look across the room to see if anyone else was listening in.

Raynolt glanced about the room. The main dais where he and King Reynar would sit was empty. None of the council members were seated in the table below it. Groups of different sizes of council members were huddled together and talking quietly.

Raynolt scowled. "I remember a time when everyone greeted the Grand Master when he entered the room."

"They are preoccupied with the upcoming war, I would imagine," Morgana replied dismissively. She focused her gaze on Raynolt. "Back to what Lenard was saying; where have you been? We have been quite nervous since your visit with the King. You have barely said five words about that meeting."

"The King signed the declaration, did he not? What more do you want to know?"

Lenard shared a look with Morgana before he said, "Well...you came out of that room looking like you barely escaped the bowels of the nine hells."

Are you the traitor Lenard? I know your greatest secret...but was that just a ploy to gain my trust? He studied Lenard closely before responding. "The King was...not quite who I thought he was."

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked.

Raynolt glanced at her. She asked her question with great interest. Did you crawl into my bed to spy on me? "I told you all you need to know. Now, where do we stand on our preparations for war?"

Morgana grimaced at his evasion of the question. She would have to be reminded of her place when he had a moment alone with her. Lenard cleared his throat. "Yes, as to that, the council has been deeply divided on the logistics of this war. We have had several heated discussions these last three days."

"The council needs a firm hand," Morgana said pointedly. Her quip asked the question she dared not; where have you been these past few days?

Raynolt couldn't tell them, of course. His search for the spy in his circle had to be kept secret. The files of each of his trusted Magi that he searched the archives for had given him valuable information; too much information, in fact. Each person in his circle was still a suspect.

"I needed some time to think about our next move," he finally said. Let them chew on that.

Lenard nodded his head as if that made sense to him. Morgana scowled. I let her get away with too much. I am the Grand Master now; she will show me respect if I have to beat it into her.

A sudden thumping sound turned everyone's head toward the entrance. The guards had stomped their spears on the floor to announce the arrival of King Reynar. Reynar, dressed in the strange fabric he always wore, strode confidently into the room. He nodded his head to each of the council members and gave Raynolt a small wink. Raynolt fought the urge to tackle him and slam his head into the floor until it was a bloody mess.

Everyone in the room bowed low as he swept past. Raynolt could only stomach a very quick nod of his head. "Welcome, my dear councilors," Reynar droned. He strode up the small steps to the table on the dais and turned to face them. "Please be seated."

Raynolt felt a surge of pride as he passed everyone and strode up to the dais. His momentary surge of pride quickly faded as he sat down. The King's chair towered over his. He gritted his teeth and turned to look at the council.

They sat in the table facing directly toward the dais. The councilor sat in order of their Tiers; the First Tier Master on the far left and the Tenth Tier Master on the far right. For years, Raynolt sat at the far right during these meetings. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the brief time he served as the Fifth Tier Master before he quickly advanced to the next Tier. He had been reluctant to hold the Fifth seat but was pressured into it. 

The tenth chair was currently filled by one of his trusted men, Vaun Tulbert, who had been quickly elected after he rose to the Grand Master position. If I can trust any of them anymore.

King Reynar nodded to the scribe standing in the corner of the room. "Let this meeting of the Council of Astuari come to order, King Reynar Lobare presiding."

Raynolt let his focus drift as the formalities of the meeting washed over him. He studied Lenard and Morgana down below him. They both appeared nervous. It took him a moment to realize that this was their first meeting and the first time they have met the King. Was I ever that nervous when I took the Fifth seat.?

Reynar had been younger then. He had always been a talented Magi but Raynolt had not been impressed. He always deferred to Boltus during the meetings and showed no sign of the great leadership he was famous for. Perhaps it had always been Boltus' leadership that made him famous.

But that was no longer the case. The man next to him exhibited a very strong aura of power. Raynolt racked his brain to figure out when Reynar had changed. It was a slow, subtle process. But he was sure that Reynar had not always been so powerful. In between his search for the spy, he had studied his magic again.

Raynolt was simply amazed at how much he had forgotten. He knew the language well enough to cast his spells but had forgotten the subtle nuances of it. Reynar's talk about intelligence had deeply unsettled him. He had to grudgingly admit that Reynar was far stronger than him. But did studying the intricacy of the language of creation really make the difference?

Raynolt snapped back to attention when he heard his name. Reynar had asked him something. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Reynar smirked sideways at him. Raynolt's blood boiled with anger and embarrassment. "I said would you like to open the discussion about the upcoming war?"

Raynolt suppressed his rage and took a breath. "Yes, thank you my liege. The war with the Magi Victus will not be your ordinary war. We are not marching to a distant land and we are not facing an army. We will be hunting through the streets of our own city, seeking to cut out the rot that has infected it."

He paused to gauge the effect of his words. The council stared steadily back at him. "It will not be easy. The Magi Victus live in the very shadows themselves. We will be taking the fight to the streets. Innocent civilians will be in danger. But we must not be discouraged or lose heart. No matter what the cost, the Magi Victus must be eliminated. They have plagued us for over two thousand years, culling our numbers and creating havoc and discord among us. I say that ends now!"

He stood up and was glad to see several pairs of eyes shining with passion. "No more will we burn our own! No more will we stand and watch as the fire consumes the funeral pyres, as we did this week for Darrius, Edmund, Daminus, and Grand Master Boltus! No more will we allow ambitious upstarts to degrade our order by hiring the Magi Victus! It ends now!"

He pounded the table for emphasis. He had them; he could see it in their eyes. He knew some of them did not favor war but would still be secretly relieved to have it be done. The option had been taken from them and they were glad of it.

"Very well spoken, Grand Master," Reynar said. "However, as we have already decided to go to war, I was hoping for a speech on the logistics of the war. I admire your passion, though."

Raynolt knew he was the only one who could hear the derisive tone in Reynar's voice. The man had humiliated him in their last meeting and was doing it again. I will not let him seize power from this council! "Forgive me, my liege, but I was merely reinforcing the reason why we are all here. And I wanted to make sure we were united in this cause before we proceeded."

Reynar waved his hand. "Of course, of course, I understand that sentiment very well. Is there any objections?" Reynar looked each councilor in the eye. Everyone nodded their agreement. "Good. Do you have a plan, Grand Master?"

"Yes. According to our reports, the Magi Victus number around five hundred members. We currently have close to one thousand Magi. We also have a standing army of five thousand soldiers. I propose that two Magi take a squad of twenty soldiers on patrols in different parts of the city."

His proposal elicited an immediate response. "Impossible! You would risk the lives of countless citizens!" This came from the 3rd Tier Master Shona Felize.

Reynar held up his hand up. "Master Felize, please stand and speak your peace."

Shona suddenly looked embarrassed by her outburst. She took a breath to restore her dignity and rose gracefully. "Thank you, my liege. With all due respect to the Grand Master, what he proposes is simply impossible. We would destroy this country's economy."

Raynolt frowned. "And how do you figure that?"

"We would have to warn the citizens to stay indoors while we scourge the city. There would be very little business done as people would be afraid to go out. People would be unable to work or provide for their families. And there is no telling when this war will be over."

Reynar nodded. He looked sideways at Raynolt and asked, "Do you have anything to say to rebut her very valid points?"

Raynolt waved his hand. "We would arrange times for the people to go indoors as we conducted our search. As long as they abide by our schedule, nobody will be hurt and business can still be conducted."

Shona snorted and then hung her head in embarrassment when she realized what she had done. "I mean no disrespect, but you make it sound so simple. I'm afraid people don't act the way you seem to think they do, Grand Master. Besides, you insult the Magi Victus' intelligence by implying that they would simply sit back and let us hunt them during the appointed hours."

"Then what do you propose?" Raynolt snapped.

Shona took another deep breath. "I think we should keep this war secret. We should disguise ourselves to venture out into town as ordinary guardsmen. That way, the people would not suspect anything."

Raynolt smiled viciously. "Now you insult the Magi Victus' intelligence. You think they will go along with this secret war of yours? No, they will want to cause chaos and havoc. It would panic the unsuspecting public and make our job much harder."

Shona looked put out. Clearly, she had thought of no counter-argument to her own plan. Raynolt turned toward Reynar and said, "Her argument wasn't intelligently thought out, was it my liege?"

A small smile curved Reynar's mouth. "Master Felize, I appreciate your input. However, what you suggest isn't feasible at this time."

Shona bowed her head and sat down. Sura Montero, the 9th Tier Master, stood up. "Master Montero, you have the floor. Please speak your mind," Reynar offered.

Sura bowed her head. "Thank you, my liege. I am worried about what the Grand Master proposes."

Raynolt scowled. Boltus never had so much dissension when he was Grand Master! He forced a smile onto his face. "Which part of my plan worries you, Master Montero?"

"You said two magi are to accompany twenty soldiers in the search for the Magi Victus. Surely, you don't intend to send out every Magi?"

Raynolt nodded, bemused. "Of course. We barely outnumber the Magi Victus two to one. We need every Magi to fight in order to win this war."

Several of the councilors muttered. Sura looked shock. "But...Grand Master, not every Magi knows how to fight. I couldn't cast an offensive spell to save my life! Besides, what would happen if we left no one behind to carry on if we should fall?"

"The same thing that would happen if we did not send everyone to fight," Raynolt said through gritted teeth. Why are these fools so blind? "If we don't win this war, the Magi Victus will not allow any of the Magi to live. It's that simple."

"I'm afraid the Grand Master is right," Reynar said. "We will need every hand on deck, to quote my old boating instructor. It's either them or us, I'm afraid."

Sura paled. "Surely, I thought we would hurt them enough to force a better treaty! My liege...are you suggesting we commit genocide? We are to kill every last half-breed in this city?"

A few councilors looked as shocked as Sura. Raynolt was pleased to see just as many nod their heads grimly. At least some of these fools see what has to be done.

Reynar nodded sadly. "They have left us no choice. We have let them live this long because of what it would cost us to fight them. But their actions in this past month have broken our original treaty. It does not matter that one of our own hired them to carry out those deeds. They accepted the contract and, in doing so, have declared war."

Sura sat down heavily. She looked around the room as if she could not believe her eyes. "But...genocide? What we will become, should we do this?"

"Better Magi than our predecessors," Raynolt growled. "We had the courage to do what was right."

No one spoke for several long moments. Finally, Weston Dorne, the 4th Tier Master, stood up. "My liege, I believe I have a better plan."

Reynar nodded. "Speak it plainly, then."

"Sura is right; most Magi aren't fighters. However, there are a select few Magi who have proven themselves very formidable in battle. Magi such as Daminus Ventus and Ashford Caulston served you well in the War of the Desert, my liege."

"One is dead and the other is missing," Raynolt cut in coldly.

Weston shot him a hard look. "Nevertheless, there were other Magi who served honorably. I think we should take some time to have these Magi train a small group of our best offensive spellcasters. This group's sole job would be to hunt through the city and kill every last Magi Victus they find. Their training would focus solely on the best ways to combat the Magi Victus."

Raynolt folded his arms and smiled condescendingly. Reynar, however, sounded intrigued. "How long would it take to train this group?"

Weston hesitated before answering. "To do a thorough job, I recommend nothing less than two years."

Raynolt laughed. Weston's gaze hardened but Reynar spoke first. "I'm afraid we don't have two years. The Magi Victus already know our intentions. They are forming plans of their own as we speak. If we don't strike first, they will."

"I respect your decision, my liege." Weston bowed and took his seat. He did not look happy.

"Does anybody else have a plan?" Reynar asked. The council stirred and looked around.

Safra Howe, Master of the 2nd Tier, stood up slowly. "I don't have anything to say against the Grand Master's plan. However, I do have a concern."

Reynar held his hand out. "Please," he invited her.

Safra bowed her head. "I am worried about how we will fight the Magi Victus. They will not be so nice as to wear their customary black clothing so we could identify them. As far as I know, we have no method of detecting them. How, then, will we find them?"

Raynolt let her statement settle into everyone's minds. He could tell they had never really considered the sacrifice that was needed. "I'm afraid that's the hard part. The Magi Victus know that eventually we will find them, one way or another. So they will act first. That's partly why I proposed that the Magi hunt for them so openly. The patrol groups are to be bait."

Raynolt sat back and let the furious yelling wash over him. Truly, I am working with fools. They are too soft. They never allowed themselves to see the truth that was right in front of their eyes.

Reynar's hands were in the air for several moments before order was restored. The gaze he gave them was like hardened steel. "You all knew this had to be so. Deep in your hearts, you knew this. Sacrifices have to be made in any war."

"This is madness," Sura said, shaking her head.

"War is madness," Reynar said quietly. The room fell silent at his words. "I am tired of watching the Magi Victus make their living off of our blood. Our Emporium has done so many wonderful things for this country. Think of all we could accomplish if the Magi Victus weren't around to cull our numbers."

He is good, I have to admit. Reynar knew exactly how to manipulate people. Raynolt felt a grudging respect for him. He would still have to die at his hand, of course.

"When?" Morgana said softly, speaking for the first time. "When do we go to war?"

Reynar took several moments to consider. "We still need time to prepare. And I want to make the first strike. I have a formulated a plan. One month from now is the Summer Festival. I want to conduct Grand Master Teryus' formal election during the Parade." 

"The whole city will be there to see that," Raynolt said slowly.

Reynar nodded. "And so will every Magi."

"And every Magi Victus," Raynolt finished for him. "You wish to draw them in."

Reynar smiled. "They will fall into our net, knowing full well that they do so, because they will want to strike before we do. Our patrol groups will be dressed for the festival and hidden in plain sight."

"I don't want a bloodbath marring my ceremony," Raynolt said angrily.

Reynar didn't even glance at him. "Deal with it. And now, my fellow council members, I have many petitioners to listen to today. We will adjourn for now and reconvene tomorrow to discuss the details of the Festival. Good day."

Everyone rose and bowed low as Reynar swept from the room. The council members talked somberly among each other as Raynolt descended from the dais. Lenard and Morgana broke away from the group and walked toward him.

"Reynar is a masterful actor," Lenard said softly.

"Why is that?" Raynolt asked, his mind distracted by Reynar's bold move.

Lenard shared a glance with Morgana. "Because it truly appeared as though he was in charge."

Raynolt broke his thoughts away from his ceremony. "What? Oh yes...that. Well, I made it clear what will befall him if he raised suspicions."

Lenard nodded. Morgana bit her lip worriedly. She touched his arm. "Ray...Grand Master, are you sure nothing is bothering you?"

Raynolt shrugged her arm off angrily. "Stop asking me that. I will tell you only what you need to know." And I will tell you nothing more until I know if you are the traitor or not.

He strode from the room, leaving behind a scared looking Morgana and a confused Lenard. He needed to get to the archives and find the traitor before the Festival. His new plans depended on it.

***

The torch sputtered and hissed as water dripped from the low ceiling. Sanje kept his gaze ahead and tried his best to ignore the stench of the sewer and the waste water that sloshed around his boots.

It always stung Sanje that the courage of the Magi Victus must be remembered by first traveling through the city's shit. But he also admired the genius that placed the shrine in a place no Magi would ever go looking. He reminded himself the day would soon come when the Magi Victus would be honored out in the light of the sun for everyone to see.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 08



He walked down many twisting passages, thinking only of the glory to come. They were so close to realizing their dreams. Freedom, precious freedom, would finally be theirs. Some of the Magi Victus craved respect, as well. But Sanje would be happy with the end to their persecution.

He came to the spot he was looking for. The stretch of wall in front of him looked no different from anywhere else. As always, he admired the ingenuity of the hidden shrine. The Magi Victus who built it must have been a master engineer. 

Sanje squatted down and found the brick he was looking for. He pushed it and it sank deeper into the wall. He stepped back and watched as a section of the wall began sliding sideways, revealing a sturdy iron door.

There was no door handle; only a small slot in the middle of the door. Sanje took out his Shadow Dagger and slide it into the wall. The runes of the dagger began to glow. There was a loud clicking sound and the door swung smoothly open. Sanje removed the dagger and held his torch up high. The room beyond emanated an overwhelming sense of age and history. He closed the door behind him.

Sanje walked down the pitch-black hallway, his torch the only source of light. His footsteps were muffled by the accumulation of dust on the ground. He walked for several minutes before the air changed noticeably and the hallway walls curved outward.

Sanje walked the edge of the wall until he came to the first torch. He lit it with his own torch and continued walking the perimeter of the room. After several minutes, he lit the ring of torches that surrounded the domed chamber.

Sanje set his torch in an empty bracket and walked to the middle of the room. He simply stood there for several minutes in silent contemplation. Am I worthy to stand here? He always asked himself that same question. He was very young to be the Master Victus. He had gained his position in questionable ways. Still, he felt a sense of belonging when he stood here.

A plain slab of unremarkable stone stood in front of him. The stone stretched nearly the entire length of the oval chamber and rose well over his head. As always, he wondered how this immense stone made its way down to the sewers. It was oddly out of place.

The only interesting thing about the gigantic slab of stone was the thousands of Shadow Daggers that adorned it and the scrawling runes that covered it.

The sight always filled him with awe. Here was where the sacrifices of the Magi Victus were honored. Every Magi Victus that chose to make his dagger looked forward to the day that their dagger would be honored here. He did not know the runes that covered the stone but he found them beautiful, nonetheless.

Sanje walked toward the edge of the stone and found the last Shadow Dagger that hung there, secured on a metal plaque. It was eye level with him. He took from his pouch a metal plaque, a hammer, several thick nails. He hammered the nails through the holes in the plaque and into the stone next to the last dagger until it held fast.

He removed a wrapping from his pouch. Reverently, he unwrapped the cloth to reveal a Shadow Dagger. I have kept my promise, Alio. You will be honored.

The plaque bore no name; nor did any of the others. Names were unimportant when compared to the life of a man. The Shadow Dagger was all the mattered. He hung Alio's dagger carefully on the hooks that extended from the plaque.

Sanje stepped back and watched as Alio's dagger glowed brighter and brighter until he had to turn his head away, tears streaming down his cheeks. The light slowly faded and all that was left was the flickering light cast by the torches.

Alio's dagger no longer looked like a dagger hung on a plaque. It seemed to belong to the stone now, even if it looked the same as it did just seconds ago. But Sanje knew that instant death awaited any hand that would seek to touch any of the daggers.

Sanje knelt on the floor and hung his head. Soon he would have to seek out Raynolt and discover his plans for the war. Soon he would have to prepare his men to fight and die. But, for now, Sanje embraced the customary night-long vigil and honored a man named Alio.

***

It was one of the happiest days of Jon d'Thelas san Ronar's life. He stood, stunned, at the sight of Sarah rocking his newborn son. She hummed under her breath as she rocked back on forward on her chair. She turned her head when she heard him enter the room.

"Oh, my love," she gasped. Tears suddenly streamed down her cheeks.

Jon fought back his own tears and hurried toward her. He reached out his hands to hold his son for the first time. But Sarah's eyes widened and she instinctively clutched his son to her chest. "No! Jon...your hands," she whispered, horrified.

Jon blinked and looked down at his hands. They were caked with dirt and blood. He shared her horrified look. "Sarah, I'm so sorry! I rode straight from the battlefield when I heard the news. I didn't think...I just wanted to see you and my new son."

She nodded and her horrified look drained from her face. It was replaced by love and longing. "The servants left some scented water over there by the mirror."

Jon nodded his gratitude and hurried to the bowl of water. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly and was shocked to see the water turned red. When he had his hands as clean as he could get them, he turned around and held out his hands again.

Sarah smiled and nodded. Jon felt his heart skip a step as his hands gently enfolded the tiny body of his son. He picked him up and cradled him against his stained armor. He was sound asleep.

He was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The last year of Jon's life had been the most difficult of his life. He struggled with the war and his worry of Sarah's pregnancy. Now that he held his son in his hands, something broke loose inside of him. Sarah stood up and laid her head on his arm as he began to silently weep.

Jon kissed his son's forehead, hoping his falling tears did not wake him from his peaceful sleep. He held him close while his wife hugged him hard. Together, they wept.

After a time, the worries of the last year faded from their hearts and left behind a deep feeling of love neither one had ever experienced. They had created life together. They were whole now.

Sarah had the maid take his son away so she could have some private time with her husband. Jon very reluctantly gave up his son and let Sarah pull him into their bed.

They did not speak a word as they made love. They had been separated for over three months and missed each other more than they allowed themselves to feel. He made love to her with urgency, not knowing why. She urged him on with her own passion. She bit her lip and shook uncontrollably. Jon grunted and released his seed inside her.

They held each other for several of the best minutes of their lives. Reluctantly, she broke the silence. "How fares the war?"

Jon grunted and sat up on the edge of the bed, the good mood suddenly gone. "I've just returned home to my family. Can't this wait?"

Sarah sat up next to him and stroked his face. "You know it cannot."

Jon sighed and gave in. "The true-born have sacked Devers. We sustained heavy casualties there."

Sarah gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "The Red Tower?"

Jon squeezed his eyes shut. "Crumbled into dust. I watched and bore witness as that magnificent structure came crashing down. The true-born will leave no monument of men standing."

"We are going to lose, aren't we?"

Jon stood up and paced the room. "There is still hope. Jocelyn's army has reclaimed North Wall. A minor victory, to be sure, but a strategic one. The supply lines are opened again to General Davarath's main force. We can winter in Thale and cut off the true-born's supply lines there. The harsh blizzards and the city's constant need for resupply will greatly weaken them. They may fancy themselves gods but they still need to eat and keep warm. Come spring, we will be refreshed and we can take back Thale."

"A solid plan," Sara spoke quietly. "Was it General Davarath's?"

Jon shook his head. "No, it was mine. Davarath approved it. Surprisingly, he doesn't begrudge my loss at Devers. Indeed, he expected us to lose the city months ago."

"Of course he doesn't begrudge you the loss. He gave you command there because he knew you were the only one who could hole up God-General Bena in Devers long enough to keep him off his back while he surrounded Thale."

"I was supposed to save those people, Sarah. I failed."

Sarah gave him a stern look. "I will hear none of your self-pity Jon. You did more than he expected." She took a deep breath. "That's why he needs you in Thale, before the blizzards come. When do you leave?"

Jon scowled and looked down at the carpet. "In one week," he said quietly.

Sarah nodded. "That will give me enough time to prepare for our departure. Our son will need winter clothing made before we depart. I fear what the cold will do to him, but he would be safer with us."

Jon felt his mouth drop lower and lower as Sarah went on. Finally he sputtered, "No! Sarah, I forbid it! I will not take my newborn son and my wife into a war zone!"

Sarah gave him a hard look. "The only reason I wasn't with you these past three months is because you convinced me that I needed to be here for the birth. You know, deep in your heart, that we need all the battle-Magi we can get. Well, my love, you are married to one of the best."

Jon tried his best to think of something to convince her with but could not find a single thought. Indeed, it surprised him to realize that he needed her there with him. They would be safer surrounded by an army than here where they could be vulnerable.

"I guess you're right," he mumbled.

She smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. "I see you still have some brains in that head of yours. I did wonder how you managed not to get yourself killed while I was gone."

Jon barked a laugh. "Oh, I managed. I would have gone mad eventually without you, of course. But my first-lieutenant turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He doesn't speak much but when he does, wisdom rolls right off his tongue. He helped me hold back Bena with several well-thought out strategies. We have become good friends. I can't wait for you to meet him. We will travel together to Thale."

Sarah dressed while he rambled on. "Oh, is that so? I look forward to meeting this man who can so capture my husband's attention. What is his name?"

"Berrick," Jon replied.

Sarah winced as though something had just pierced her heart. The walls of his palace shook. Dust rained down from the ceiling. Jon staggered, trying to keep his feet underneath him as the floor-stones shifted.

"Will you forgive me?" Sarah asked desperately as large blocks of stone fell around her.

Jon didn't have a chance to answer. Sarah screamed and disappeared under an avalanche of stone. "Sarah!" he screamed. His chest hurt. It felt as though someone had reached inside and torn his heart out.

The stone above Jon shook loose and fell straight down. Jon didn't feel like moving. But suddenly a hand grasped his arm and pulled him back.

Jon shook his head, trying desperately to catch his thoughts. He looked up and blinked. He was in a blacksmith's shop. A large man stood in front of an anvil and banged on a red-hot piece of metal. Sparks flew up and illuminated his face.

"Berrick," Jon growled.

Berrick set down his hammer and wiped his face with his arm. He dusted his hands on his apron and stepped around the anvil. He looked sadly at Jon.

"I should have died at Devers. But you saved me...and I curse God for that," Berrick said. A fat tear leaked down the dirt and grime on his face.

"So do I," Jon replied quietly. His chest was too tight; he couldn't breathe properly.

"I never meant...I had no choice, Jon. Soul-mates are an ancient magic."

"You always have a choice!" Jon snapped. The pain in his chest increased, becoming a stabbing sensation.

"Not in this," Berrick replied sadly. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"N...Never," Jon breathed. The pain was too much. Something was pushing its way out of his tunic. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought the pain with all his strength.

"Then why, Jon? Why did you keep the sword?"

Jon screamed as a sword burst from his chest.

"Jon?"

Jon snapped his head up. The dream still lingered in his mind, disorienting him. He could still feel his chest tightening...

"Jon?"

It was the voice again. He blinked his eyes several times and fought to regain his senses. The room was dark, illuminated only by one flickering touch. Something was touching his hand. He looked down and saw a hard, callused hand in his own.

"Jon?" Sophina whispered, her eyes still shut tight.

Jon shook his head. He was by Sophina's bedside. He had sat in vigil next to her and must have fallen asleep. "I see you are finally back among the living," Jon said, hoping the fear of his dream did not linger in his voice.

Sophina slowly opened her eyes. "Where am I?"

"You are in the bed of my guest room. You have been battling death for the past three days. To be honest, there were some moments there when I thought you weren't going to make it."

Sophina shook her head slowly, as though trying to catch up to her thoughts. "Three days?"

"Yes. You were badly wounded in your fight with that guardsman. I did my best to heal you but I pushed your body too hard. I'm sorry, but it had to be done."

"The guardsman...Warren? It was a trap..."

Jon coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes...I know."

Sophina's eyes snapped all the way open. "That Tom fellow was acting very suspicious. I thought you had sensed it, too."

Jon hesitated for a moment and then nodded his head. She had to know. "Sophina...I'm sorry."

Sophina struggled to sit up but Jon held her down. She gasped and fell back to the bed. But her cheeks were red with anger rather than exertion. "You knew he was going to betray us and you let it happen! Why, damn you? Why?"

"Whether we like it or not, all four of us will have to work together to get through this. But you and Ashford didn't understand the position we are in. You complained about bathhouses and needing new clothes. You both had no idea what you are facing or what it means to be a fugitive. So I took you to a place where I could enlighten you...and test you."

"Well are you satisfied?" she spat. "You almost got me killed! Did I pass your stupid little test?"

Jon bit back a retort and took a breath. She had a right to be angry. I have forgotten what it's like to be part of a group...I need to trust them. But I know I can't. Betrayal follows trust. Always. "I was not going to allow you to die...but I didn't think we would be barred inside. I may a calculated mistake, I admit it. By the time I burned the door open, your fight was already finishing."

Sophina turned her head. "The next time you wish to test me, let me know in advance. That way I can wear my armor and not have to suffer the shame of fighting buck-naked."

Jon allowed himself a small smile. "I have never seen a naked woman best a fully armored guardsman in a fight. I underestimated your skills."

"Flattery will not buy my forgiveness," she replied.

Jon smiled. The anger had gone out of her voice. "I will remember that."

Sophina said nothing for several moments. Jon almost thought she had fallen asleep when she turned her head. "I can tell my body is not right. How bad is the damage?"

"Sophina, I don't think-"

"How bad?"

Her tone was adamant. He sighed and stood up. "If you have the strength to rise, there is a mirror over by the dresser."

He waited for her nod before closing the door softly behind him. When she became stubborn like that, he could swear he was talking to Sarah. Thinking of her made him remember his dream. Why have my dreams been haunting me of late? I put all that behind me many years ago.

He would have to focus on other things. He needed to know what the Magi were up to. When did they plan on starting the war? He could use the war as cover to get to the truth of what was going on. What was Evelyn in all this? What is Sanje's plan? Why agree to the war? If Marcus was right, the future of the world was at stake and wasn't just about who currently had the power in Astuari.

He grimaced as he strode down the hall. He had too many questions and so few answers. It was time to talk to Marcus again.

***

Sophina was embarrassed to discover that she was naked under the blanket. I hope they didn't gawk over me! She shook her ruefully. She knew Jon wouldn't but Ashford was a different story. She set the matter out of her mind and focused her energy on getting out of bed.

It took her three tries before she was able to stand up on her very unsteady legs. She gasped as she saw how shrunken her legs were. How...what happened? She stumbled forward to the mirror in a daze. It had only been three days; what could have happened to her body?

She reached the mirror but kept her eyes down. She was afraid to look now. But she had to see sooner or later. She mentally prepared herself for any shock she might feel and looked up.

Somebody else was looking at her in the mirror.

She whipped her head around and saw nobody behind her. With a sickening feeling, she turned back toward the mirror. It was her. Jon had gone ahead and dyed her hair black. But that wasn't what shocked her.

Her body was as thin as a stick. Every rib pushed clearly from her stomach. Her cheeks and eyes were sunken. Her arms were fragile and spindly. Her legs were nothing but sinew and bone. She looked like death itself.

A deep, jagged grayish scar ran down her right shoulder. The cut on her left arm had healed smoothly but the cut across her ribs left a fine, thin white scar. She looked down at her right forearm and began to feel light-headed. The cut that almost severed her arm left behind a puckered scar that ran almost the whole way around her foreman. Her right arm felt weaker than her left arm, which was saying something, given her current condition.

Sophina had never been vain. But this...it took all her strength to blink back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She turned away from the mirror and shuffled quickly back toward the bed. Jon had left a robe hanging on the bedpost. She grabbed and wrapped it protectively around her body. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to still the tremor in her hands.

I am soldier. But I can't fight in this body! What am I to become? Can I regain what I lost or did the magic forever steal that from me? She had too many questions and no answers. She had dedicated her whole life to the sword. Now she abhorred the body she was trapped in.

Her planned disguise had worked out all too well. With her black hair and shrunken appearance, Sophina's own father wouldn't recognize her. She punched her thigh in frustration and then immediately regretted it. Pain spread from her thigh rapidly. She opened her robe and gasped at the large bruise forming on her thigh.

She couldn't help it; this time she couldn't stop the tears. She wept for the life that had been stolen from her. She wept for the fit body she took for granted. Most of all, she wept for the future that had been denied to her. This useless body would never see a battlefield again. She wasn't going to die defending her country or her fellow soldiers.

She wept quietly for several minutes before someone knocked on the door. She dried her eyes angrily and snapped, "What?"

"Can I come in?" It was Ashford.

"What do I care?" Sophina replied bitterly.

The door creaked open hesitantly. "Sophina? Are you decent?"

Sophina hugged the robe around her tighter. "Yes."

Ashford stepped inside and shut the door. She gaped at him. He was completely bald. And his beard had grown in thicker. He wasn't the only one who had changed. She almost laughed at the paleness of his bald head contrasted against the tan of his face. But then she remembered her current predicament and felt her anger return.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 08



He glanced awkwardly at Sophina and then looked down at his feet. Sophina felt her anger slip away again, to be replaced by resignation. "For the God's sake Ashford, what is it?"

Ashford slowly looked up at her. "I just thought maybe you would want to talk."

Sophina looked away. "Talk about what? How Jon sacrificed my future for some stupid test?"

She turned her head back and saw Ashford staring at her, shocked. "Stole your future?"

Sophina's anger came flooding back. Would her anger forever ebb and flow? "Yes, you fool! Don't pretend you don't see the shriveled form before you! Damn you and Jon to the nine hells! I was a soldier! What am I now? What?"

Sophina blinked back tears. She was ashamed to see Ashford look helpless and terrified as she berated him for something that wasn't his fault. He took a step toward her. "Sophina, your future isn't ruined."

Sophina wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "What are you blabbering about?"

He stared at her, confused. "Didn't Jon tell you what happened?"

Sophina looked down at the floor, guiltily. "I...may not have given him the chance."

Ashford smiled and shook his head. Despite her best efforts, a small seed of hope bloomed in her chest. "Sophina, magic doesn't heal you. Jon used magic to command your mind to heal itself. He forced your mind to overcome the instinct of preservation. So your mind took every last reserve that had built up in your body over your entire life to heal your wounds. It took every piece of fat it could and still keep you alive."

Sophina looked down at the bones protruding from the back of her hands. "That's why I am so shriveled?"

Ashford nodded. "You have absolutely no excess fat on you. And it still was almost not enough. You barely pulled through. I thought you were dead for sure. I have never seen a Magi so thoroughly command another's mind."

Sophina stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Are you saying...I will return to normal?"

"Yes. Jon has already picked up extra food. We are going to fatten you up in no time."

Ashford jumped back in surprise as Sophina sprang at him. But she barely managed to cling to his tunic before collapsing against him, sobbing her heart out. She had never been so relieved in all her life.

Ashford patted her awkwardly on the head. "There, there, it's ok. You will be back to bashing skulls in before you know it."

Sophina laughed into his tunic. His comment really wasn't that funny; she just wanted to laugh for the pleasure of it. She was going to be ok! She would hold her sword again and die with honor. Her life wasn't wasted.

She stepped back and dried her eyes. But she couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you, Ashford. I feel embarrassed now that I let my shock take control of my senses. I hope you don't think I am vain."

He shook his head. "No, of course not. I know how much being a soldier means to you. I wouldn't want that to ever be taken from you, just as I would never want my magic taken from me."

"You're a good man. I'm glad to have your company."

He blushed and then turned his head and coughed. "Yes, well...I'm glad to have met you, Sophina. Now come, let's go see Evelyn. Jon dyed her head blonde and cut it short; probably as tribute to you."

She laughed. "I have to see this! Is she...feeling better?"

Ashford opened the door to let Sophina pass. He shook his head as she walked by. "I'm afraid there is no change."

Oh my love, I hope there is hope for you yet. If there is anyway to help you, I will find it.

Ashford led her to the living room and then stopped. He turned his head left and right. "Is something wrong?" Sophina asked.

Ashford turned to look at her. His eyes were wide and his face was white as a sheet. Sophina felt her heart lurch in her chest. "What is it Ashford? What?"

"Evelyn...I...I left her sitting right here when I went to talk to you!"

Sophina glanced back behind her. "Maybe she wandered to Jon's room."

"No, Jon locked his door before he left to do some scouting. Sophina, look..." Ashford pointed toward the fall wall.

On the floor, next to the stairs leading out, was an overturned vase. Sophina looked at Ashford. "You're not thinking..."

Ashford swallowed and nodded his head. "Yes I am. Evelyn is gone."

***

Note: I have decided I would offer everyone a teaser for the next chapter since you must wait a whole week between postings. Before I give you the teaser for next chapter, I am going to go ahead and tease you about chapter 10 as well, to build the anticaption. I fully intend for chapter 10 to be a landmark chapter for me and my skills as a writer.

Chapter 9: The return of a major character

Chapter 10: I am calling this chapter the "Mega" chapter. There will be so much happening that you better bring muscle relaxers to read it!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 09



Jon stood by the doorway to the abandoned house that concealed his real home and watched the sun slowly sink down below the horizon. He turned his attention to the streets and the homeless beggars that ambled aimlessly. Marcus usually walked by at sunset to see if Jon needed to talk to him, if his mind wasn't too far gone that day.

But Jon was in luck; Marcus came shuffling down the street as the stars began twinkling in the night sky. Marcus looked up and saw Jon watching. He hurried his pace and was soon at the doorway. Jon walked inside and heard Marcus following.

As soon as Marcus stepped inside, his eyes darted toward the spot in the room where his payment was hidden. Jon felt a pang of guilt at the look of hunger on Marcus' face. He cleared his throat. "How are you doing Marcus?"

"Not good, Jon," Marcus replied, his eyes pinched in pain.

Jon blinked in surprise. Marcus sounded...normal. Jon felt another pang of guilt at the excitement that flooded his veins. Days when Marcus was lucid were very rare. He had a good chance at getting some straight answers today. But why is he is in so much pain? I gave him enough to last a month.

"I can see that," Jon replied carefully.

Marcus sighed and shuffled to a window. He wiped grime off the window with his ragged coat sleeve and stared wistfully at the descending night. "I need more this time."

Jon waited several moments before responding slowly. "But I gave you a month's worth only a few days ago..."

Marcus turned and looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot and he had heavy bags under his eyes. Not for the first time, Jon lamented the fact that Marcus continuously refused Jon's offer to stay with him. He never could explain exactly why he chose to live as a beggar. He would just mumble something about having no choice.

"I don't know if I am building a resistance to it or my dreams are becoming resistant," Marcus said. "Either way, I need more."

Jon hesitated. "Marcus...I don't think I can do that."

"Damn you, Jon! Just give me what I ask for!" Marcus suddenly shouted. His eyes bulged out of his head and spit flew from his mouth. He looked deranged.

Marcus wilted as suddenly as he had exploded. Jon slowly took his hand off his Shadow Dagger. Marcus covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's ok. I understand how the dreams—"

"No, you don't," Marcus cut in, lifting his face from his hands and giving Jon a firm look. "The dreams have become overwhelming. You have no idea what it's like for me. I don't just see the possible futures, Jon, I live them. I feel and experience the destruction and the pain of every soul as the world dies."

Jon stared in horror. "Marcus, I had no—"

"And in the middle of all that pain and sorrow, I'm supposed to observe the branching of choices so I know how to guide them? Madness!" He turned and punched the wall. Brick cracked all the way up to the ceiling.

Jon didn't say anything. He knew Marcus needed to get this off his chest. He had been carrying this burden for over two thousand years. Marcus leaned his head against the wall. "I'm so tired. How much longer must I endure this?"

"You said yourself that the time has come, didn't you? This is the ending time?"

Marcus shook his head, confused. "Is it? I rarely recall what I say when I am in the drug's haze."

"You said that the woman I brought here, Evelyn, was the key. That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Marcus eyed him warily. "You know I can't say too much, Jon. That was the promise I made when I agreed to become the God's oracle. Can you believe that I used to think that was the greatest day of my life? Now I curse Him bitterly when I go to sleep at night."

"You aren't the only one," Jon said quietly. He remembered too well the bitter promise he had made so many years ago.

Marcus sighed. "Melancholy has come over me this night; I must apologize. I knew the sacrifice I was making when I made that deal. And it worked, didn't it? I didn't become like all the others. The dreams...distracted me from all that."

"It was a bad deal, Marcus," Jon said bitterly.

"But I would make it again. I still feel special that the God chose me." He laughed quietly. "I must be mad! But my choice guided us through the War of Gods and brought us here, where hope yet lives. What's two thousand or so years of nightly torment compared to that?"

"How have you preserved your mind for so long?" The pain that Marcus was revealing to him was branding new scars on his soul.

"I could ask the same of you. You are bitter and have lost faith. That's what you think, isn't it?"

Jon spat on the ground. "I have lost faith, Marcus. I'm just an assassin now, nothing more. My purpose, my mission, is just dust in the wind."

"And yet here you are, trying to solve the puzzle in order to save the world. You say you are just an assassin but you still carry out your duty, no matter what your reasons are now. And you kept Berrick's sword."

Jon pointed his finger at Marcus. "Don't! You understand me? Don't go there."

But Marcus was relentless. "Why did you keep the sword? That's the question that has been haunting your dreams of late, isn't it?"

Jon paled. "How...?"

Marcus laughed, sounding as mad as he usually did. "I am the oracle! But I can't see your answer. Your pain clouds it. So why did you keep it?"

"Enough! My nightmares are my own, you understand? And I don't owe you or anybody an explanation!" That pain was still too deadly to give it voice.

Marcus raised his hands. "Ok, ok, I won't push you on it." He winced suddenly and clasped his hands. "Jon, please, let's finish this so you can give me my payment."

Jon breathed deep and calmed his nerves. Marcus was always good at rattling him. "What is Evelyn in all this?"

Marcus sighed. "You already know the answer to that. If I tell you more, your choices will change and who knows what path you will create."

Jon felt his anger come roaring back. "Then what use is an oracle? What happened to free will, if we can't change our choices?"

"Nobody is stopping you, Jon. You have the freedom to choose however you want. I can only divine the path your choices create and give you the bare minimum of information to help steer you. Revealing too much information is just as bad as revealing none. You have no idea the fine line I walk."

Just like that, Jon felt his anger drain away. "I really hate Him, you know? But He chose wisely in you. I don't know if I have any faith left, but I have come this far and I mean to see it through. And that is my answer to your question of how I have kept sane for thousands of years."

"Stubbornness?" Marcus barked laughter. "I swear, only you could keep your sanity with so small a reason."

Jon shared a small smile with him. It did seem like a flimsy reason but it made sense to him. He didn't endure what he had to endure just to quit at the end. "And Sanje? What is his part in all of this? Why does he betray the Magi Victus?"

Marcus frowned and stayed silent for several minutes before responding. "Magi Victus...I always thought that was a strange name. In the language of creation it means 'killers of the faithful.' It's ironic, seeing how the Magi Victus were created because they were faithful. If only the Magi knew the truth of their history."

Jon waited patiently while Marcus rambled on. "Marcus? Sanje, remember?"

Marcus cleared his throat. "I was getting there. Don't judge Sanje by what you think you know. Remember the faithfulness of the name. You will know what I mean, when you find him."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "So we are to meet again?"

Marcus nodded. "And to answer the next question you are about to ask, I have little news to give you. The Council of Mages met with Reynar today to discuss the war. I do not yet know their plan. I will find out tonight."

"Thank you, Marcus, for everything."

Marcus smiled sadly. "You saved me and stood by me all those years ago. You had faith in me, when everyone else demanded my head. You never have to thank me for anything I do for you."

Jon felt his heart ease in his chest. It took him a while to recognize the feeling as love. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to stay here?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, I told you I can't. Now I have to go. The pain is making me see red. And I still need to find that information for you tonight."

Jon nodded and walked to the hiding spot in the rubble of the living room. He clicked the false switch and retrieved the familiar metal box. He opened the lid. He said the pain is getting too intense. But what will extra doses do to him? Just another small sacrifice...right God? Jon pulled out three small cloth bags and put the metal box back in the hiding spot.

"Marcus, I think three bags should-" Jon cut off when he turned around. Standing in front of the doorway, facing Marcus, was Evelyn.

She looked odd with her new haircut. It clung tight to her head and emphasized her facial features. The haircut, and the blonde hair, disguised her well. He watched, fascinated, as she took a hesitant step toward Marcus. Marcus looked very uncomfortable.

Jon shook his head. "I told them to watch her."

"Jon, give me my payment and I will be on my way," Marcus said, his voice shaking.

Jon looked at him curiously. Why is she spooking him? Am I missing something? "It's ok, Marcus. Her mind is gone. She must have wondered up the stairs. I forgot to shut the hidden door behind me. But come to think of it, I have never seen her walk on her own..." Jon added slowly.

Marcus nodded and swallowed nervously. Oddly, he never took his eyes off of Evelyn. Evelyn cocked her head and stared at Marcus. Jon was beginning to feel worried. Something strange was going on between these two.

Evelyn started walking slowly toward Marcus. Marcus clenched his teeth in fear but seemed rooted to the spot. Jon didn't know if he should interfere or not. He was very curious to see what was going to happen.

Evelyn stopped right in front of Marcus. Marcus' eyes were as round as they could go. His chest heaved as his breath quickened. Evelyn studied him as though she had never seen anything like him before.

Jon tensed and grabbed his Shadow Dagger as Evelyn moved her arm up. But she only laid her hand on Marcus' cheek. Marcus' eyes widened even more and then suddenly drooped shut. Jon was shocked to see tears form underneath his eyelids.

Marcus leaned his face into her hand. Tension left his body. Evelyn continued to look at him curiously as Marcus smiled into her hand.

"Jon, Evelyn has—"

Evelyn dropped her hand and Marcus jumped in fright as Sophina and Ashford came barreling out of the hidden door. They stopped suddenly and stared, shocked, at the strange scene before their eyes.

Jon turned his gaze on them. "I told you to keep an eye on her."

Sophina's eyes darted between Jon and Marcus. "I...I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Ashford held his tongue but Jon could see the intense curiosity in his eyes as he surveyed the scene. Jon nodded at Sophina. "It better not. Please take Evelyn back inside. I need to talk to Marcus alone."

Sophina nodded quickly and ran to Evelyn. She gently pulled her arm. "Come on, Evelyn, let's leave these two alone."

Evelyn gave no resistance but continued to stare at Marcus over her shoulder before she disappeared down the stairs. Marcus watched her go sadly.

"What in the nine hells was that about?" Jon asked harshly.

Marcus blinked and turned back toward him. His cheeks were wet with tears. "Confirmation," he said, wonder filling his eyes.

Jon growled. Why are oracles always so damn cryptic? "Confirmation of what?" he asked, knowing full well he wouldn't get a straight answer.

"Confirmation of my faith, Jon. She is the key. I can see it now. Do you know what this means? My sacrifice wasn't for nothing!" Marcus beamed, looking happier than Jon had ever seen him.

"What am I to do about her? You say she is the key but her mind is gone. How can she be the key?"

Marcus gave him a patient look. "You know her mind is still there. It's just...hiding. And you know what you must do to bring her back."

Jon stared at the hidden entrance where she had just disappeared. "Do I tell her...everything?"

Marcus sighed. "It's not my choice, Jon. I don't want to change your path by offering you my opinion. I can say this, though," Marcus added, seeing the scowl on Jon's face. "She will find out eventually."

Jon pushed the question to the back of his mind. In the end, he would act on instinct. He just wouldn't worry about it right now. He held out the bags toward Marcus. "Here's your payment."

Marcus stared at the bags for several moments. Finally, he walked over and, to Jon's surprise, only picked up one bag. Seeing the look on Jon's face, he said, "The confirmation I received earlier...has lifted a burden from my shoulders that I didn't know even existed. I was being to lose faith, Jon. That's why my dreams have worsened lately. It takes faith to endure the agony of the dreams."

Jon let out a sigh of relief. "You sure you need just one bag?"

Marcus smiled. "Yes, just to take the usual edge off the dreams. My faith has been restored. I feel...renewed."

"Will you be crazy still when I see you again?"

"Oh, without a doubt," he replied cheerfully. They enjoyed a long laugh over that.

*** 

Raynolt tossed the paper back on the table and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. What time is it? He couldn't be sure how long he had been inside the archives today. He knew he was neglecting his duties but the search for the spy consumed him.

As far as he could tell, his long hours of searching through the files kept on every Magi were a waste of time. Every interesting note of a Magi's background fueled his suspicion. In the end, he focused primarily on what King Reynar knew.

That line of thinking led him to conclude that the traitor was privileged to the most intimate details of his plot. He had several people working for him; however, most of them knew only the basic parts of his plan. Only his inner circle knew the precise details. That left only three likely suspects.

He shuffled his papers and laid out the files on two of his three suspects. He mouthed their names under his breath: Lenard Demps and Morgana Rosewood. The other suspect was Sanje.

He was almost sure of Sanje's loyalty for two reasons. The first was because of the history they shared; a history only the two of them knew. The second was because Reynar wanted the Magi Victus wiped out. Sanje wanted to freedom for his men, not personal power.

He pushed Sanje to the back of his mind and focused on the two files in front of him. He knew every word that was written into Lenard and Morgana's file. 

Lenard came to the Emporium as a full grown adult. This was rare but not unheard of. Some Magi parents lived out in the smaller provinces. They acted as local Magistrates, with the full backing of the Emporium. Since they were so far from the capital city, they tended to keep their children with them and taught them the basics of magic. Eventually, in order to receive a complete education, the child must eventually come to the Emporium.

Lenard spoke seldom of his parents and birthplace. His parentage was verified before he gained entrance into the Emporium. Raynolt had to admit that his mysterious past offered plenty of opportunity to be recruited by Reynar. Still, he wasn't sure Lenard was the traitor. He knew his darkest secret; that kind of knowledge tends to come with absolute loyalty, lest it find voice.

Raynolt shifted his attention to Morgana's file. Hers was more mundane. She had been given to the Emporium to be raised when she was a child. She was the daughter of unremarkable Magi parents. Her father only made it to the 4th Tier before getting killed by bandits on a diplomatic mission. Her mother barely made the 5th Tier before succumbing to old age.

Morgana herself showed very little promise, outside her expertise in healing. She was completely unremarkable in all other ways; the perfect type of spy. Raynolt tapped his finger on his lips as he thought it over. Morgana sometimes struck him as someone who only wanted to ride the coattails of more powerful people. Undoubtedly the reason she bedded him, he knew. But that could also be part of her mission.

Raynolt rubbed his eyes again. He had been going back and forth between his three suspects for several hours now.

"You have been hard to find," a voice whispered behind him.

Raynolt almost tumbled out of his chair. He regained his balance and jumped to his feet, the magic pouring through his veins. Sanje smirked at him from the shadows of a nearby bookshelf.

Raynolt looked around the deserted archives before hissing, "What in the nine hells are you doing here? And how the hell did you penetrate the wards to get all the way down here?"

"Do you still doubt my skills?" Sanje teased.

Raynolt picked up his chair and slammed it back in its place. "You take unnecessary risks, Magi Victus."

Raynolt was pleased to see the smirk vanish from his face from beneath the darkened hood. "Unnecessary? No, it was completely necessary. We are marching to war and you haven't even bothered to contact me about our plans! I had to find out from Lenard that you have been spending all your time down here. He was in charge of the wards tonight; that's how I made it down here."

"Why are you talking to him?" Raynolt asked suspiciously. 

For the first time, he considered the possibility of multiple spies. It made sense; if one spy was captured, there would be another to continue their efforts. And Raynolt would probably stop looking.

"We are all in this together, aren't we? Or have your plans changed? Lenard seems worried about you. Evidently, you have been neglecting your new duties and he doesn't know why. I find that very odd. After all, you finally have what you always wanted."

Raynolt turned his back and shuffled his papers together. Can I trust him? I need to trust somebody. I can't carry out my plans alone? I have to gamble, one way or another.

"No, my plans haven't changed," Raynolt said quietly.

Sanje walked up next to him. "Then what has gotten into you? Why haven't you contacted me to begin preparations for the war? I still don't now what was decided in that earlier meeting today. When does the war begin?"

"We haven't finalized any plans yet," Raynolt said carefully. He didn't want to say too much just yet. He needed time to make his choice.

"You're hiding something from me. I can see it in your face. I hope you aren't thinking about double-crossing me." Sanje slid his hand down to his dagger.

Raynolt pretended he didn't see the threatening move. It was time to test fate. "Reynar wants to begin the war during the Summer Festival. There is to be a ceremony to officially appoint me as the new Grand Master. It will be the perfect bait to lure your men out."

Raynolt could practically hear Sanje's mind whirling with this new information. He was silent for several minutes. Raynolt gave him time to think and sat down at the table. "Why has Reynar decided when to start the war? I thought he was on your leash," he finally said.

Raynolt took a breath to steady his nerves. He was about to make the biggest gamble in his life. "As it turns out, Reynar is far more powerful than anybody knows. He could kill me as easily as swatting a fly. I am more valuable to him alive, however; for now, at least."

Raynolt couldn't be sure but he thought he saw a flash of shock cross Sanje's face. But his hood was pulled low; he could very well have imagined it. Regardless, he felt the tension leave his shoulders. He was almost positive now that Sanje wasn't a spy.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 09



"So, all your plans are for naught? Everything we have worked for and sacrificed?" Sanje asked, his tone dripping with contempt.

Raynolt felt his anger bubble to the surface. "Do not think me weak," he growled. "I was caught off guard, that's all. How in the nine hells was I suppose to know how powerful he is? I just need to work out a new plan."

"If he is as powerful as you claim, you are going to need a very good plan. But if he isn't under your control, then how did you get the declaration signed?"

Raynolt leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Evidently, he desires this war more than I do. He wants to completely wipe out the Magi Victus."

Sanje started. "What? Why?"

Raynolt shrugged. "He wasn't exactly open with me. He spouted some nonsense about saving the world. Really, I just think that man speaks to hear his own voice. He talked down to me like I was a child while he rambled on about intelligence and philosophy." 

"To save the world?" Sanje repeated incredulously. He shook his head.

"He has a very high opinion about himself. He should hear how he gloated about bypassing my shields to bind me."

"I thought you said you said you were going to have extra shields on you when you went in there?"

"I did," Raynolt replied simply. He let the implication settle in Sanje's mind.

If Raynolt thought he saw shock on Sanje's face before, this time he was sure. He could even hear it in his voice. "He bypassed multiple shields? I thought that was impossible! Aren't shields supposed to weaken a spell as it rips through? Your second shield should have been more than enough to stop a simple binding spell."

"I couldn't believe it myself. According to him, shield spells have rather large gaps. He just slipped through my shields instead of using brute force."

"Who is this man?" Sanje asked. Raynolt said nothing. He was curious about that answer as well. Sanje took a breath. "Did you give him time to prepare for your attack?"

Raynolt shook his head. "No, as soon as I stepped through the door, I began casting. I couldn't bypass his shield but I wanted to give him a message, nonetheless. I wanted to make sure he knew who was in charge. But he was waiting for me."

"But how did he know you were going to attack?"

Raynolt said nothing but just looked at Sanje. Sanje didn't look away. Either he knew what Raynolt was about to say or he was just waiting for an explanation. Finally, Raynolt laid his cards out on the table, so to speak. "During our conversation, he made it clear that he had a spy in my circle."

Sanje said nothing for several long moments. Raynolt hadn't released his magic when Sanje startled him earlier. He silently began preparing spells, just in case. "And you've obviously eliminated me as a suspect, or you wouldn't have just told me that," Sanje said at last.

"Yes, I decided you had too much to lose by joining Reynar. And I think I have your loyalty, considering our—"

"Secrets spoken find wings," Sanje warned. "We agreed to never mention that connection, not even in private."

"Of course," Raynolt agreed, thinking privately that he would as soon jump off a cliff than tell someone that secret.

Sanje paced back and forth. "And since he revealed the presence of his spy, he obviously meant for you to know."

Raynolt nodded. "Of course. He wished to distract me so I would focus my attention on what he wanted."

Sanje scowled and gestured at the table. "And it's obviously working."

Raynolt waved his hand dismissively. "Don't you think I know that? But in order to build a new plan against him, I need to rid myself of his spy. Otherwise, he would know everything I planned. And he knows I can't carry out our plans by myself. I need help."

"Do you have a plan?"

Raynolt gestured toward the papers on the table. "I think so. Reynar knows everything about my plans. That knowledge eliminates the lesser people under my employ. Only my inner circle knew everything. And as a rule, I keep that circle very small. The spy has to be Lenard or Morgana."

"I can question them, if you like," Sanje said, fingering the hilt of his dagger.

Raynolt grimaced. "Tempting, but no. If I do that, I will lose both, no matter who the spy was. But I think I have a plan. It requires your help."

"I'm listening," Sanje said carefully.

"It's simple, really. I am going to feed them false information. Perhaps I will tell them I discovered Reynar's weakness and intend to assassinate him during my ceremony. What I need you to do is to stake out the palace and watch for any suspicious activity. They will need to go before the Festival to warn Reynar, so you shouldn't have to wait long."

Sanje snorted. "It may not be so simple. What if they don't communicate that way? What if they have their own method of communication?"

"The only method of magical communication is a summons. And every Magi in the city will hear that. Even if they use some other form of communication, somebody will still need to enter the palace to deliver the message to Reynar. You can watch out for messenger birds, as well. You get the point? Just report anything suspicious to me."

"I will do this, because it affects my plans as well, but we still need to discuss this war."

Raynolt gathered his papers up and shoved them back in their respective files. "Meet me in my office in one hour."

When Raynolt turned around, Sanje was already gone.

***

Jon descended the stairs, his mind still working over the new information Marcus just gave him. Marcus had kept his word and returned early in the morning to deliver his news. Sophina and Ashford were breakfasting when he walked in.

"What news?" Ashford asked immediately, setting down his spoon.

Jon walked over to the table and picked up an apple. He bit into it and swallowed before answering. "The council has yet to reach a consensus on how to proceed with the war. However, King Reynar declared that the war will start during the Summer Festival. It seems that he will hold a ceremony for Raynolt that officially appoints him as the Grand Master of the Guild of Magi."

Sophina frowned and Ashford's jaw dropped in shock. "How does that homeless beggar gather his information? The council sessions are closed to everyone."

"I told you his name is Marcus," Jon replied coldly. Ashford swallowed nervously and nodded his head in apology. Jon sighed. "He...has his ways, trust me."

Sophina swirled her spoon through her porridge and seemed lost in thought. Jon winced every time he looked at her. He did what was necessary but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty about her current state. Sophina wasn't particularly comely before the healing, but now...The bones in her face stood out sharply. Her arms looked like they belonged on a ninety year old crone. Her hands trembled whenever she lifted her spoon.

"Finish that porridge," Jon demanded more harshly than he meant to. "And after you finish, I want you to eat three of these apples."

Sophina scowled at him. "This porridge tastes like something from a waste pit. I'm not even hungry."

Jon gave her a firm look. "I don't care what it tastes like. It has everything important that your body needs to rebuild itself. If you don't put fat back on your bones, then I can't train you."

Sophina looked up sharp at that. "Train me? What do you mean?"

Jon walked over and sat in the chair next to her. "I can train you to be a better swordsman. You had too much trouble with that one guard."

Sophina's face reddened. "In case you didn't notice, he was heavily armored and I was stark-naked!"

Ashford snorted into his food. Sophina shot him a withering glare that quickly wiped the smile from his face. Jon was wise to hold his smile. "Even so, I can teach you how to quickly dispatch men like that. Your sword skills are better suited to the chaos of battlefields. Your instructors had to train thousands of people at one time during the war, so individual training was lacking from your education. Your style is not suitable for the situation we find ourselves in."

Sophina grasped her spoon harder and harder as he went on. It seemed anger gave her strength. Jon filed that information away for later. "I did my best! And I have been in more battles than you can imagine! I think it says something about my skills that I always came out alive."

"Relax, Sophina. I'm not insulting your skills. I'm merely saying that you need to learn a different style that is better suited for what we will face."

"What, exactly, are we facing?" Ashford asked, as Sophina opened her mouth angrily.

"The King intends to instigate the war during the Summer Festival. The Magi Victus can't pass up the opportunity to strike with so many Magi gathered in one place. And we can't pass up the opportunity either."

"You mean to assassinate Raynolt during his ceremony?" Ashford asked.

Jon nodded. "And that means having to deal with dozens of Magi, hundreds of guards, and the King himself."

"We don't have to worry about the King," Ashford said confidently. "He will take the opportunity to remove Raynolt's leash. He will be a great ally when the fighting breaks out, just you watch."

Jon has his doubts but didn't voice them. Ashford would only argue with him until he was blue in the face. Jon looked at Sophina. "The guards will be just as deadly as the Magi when the fighting starts. That's why I need to train you fast."

Sophina nodded reluctantly and began shoveling porridge into her mouth. Jon smiled as he turned back to Ashford. "I will be giving you lessons in magic, as well. I can teach you some spells that will come in handy."

Ashford's eyes gleamed eagerly. "Thank you, I would appreciate that. So, do you have a plan?"

Jon shook his head. "I'm still working on it. The good news is that we have a month to plan our attack and to get you two trained up. And it will give me time to think about one other task."

"What's that?" Ashford asked curiously.

Jon waved his hand, dispelling thoughts of his plan for Evelyn from his mind. She would have to wait. He knew what he had to do but he didn't want to contemplate it until he needed to. "Where is Evelyn?" he asked instead.

Sophina swallowed and said, "She is sitting in the guest room. I already fed her breakfast. She is just sitting there, looking at the wall," she added sadly.

"Good," Jon replied absently, already pushing her from his mind. "How do you feel, Sophina?"

Sophina shrugged her shoulders and swallowed the last of her porridge. "I'm ok. My right arm feels pretty weak. I was surprised I didn't lose it."

"I did the best I could for it," Jon said apologetically.

Sophina waved it away. "You saved my life. I'm grateful, trust me. But I'm still getting used to this body. I don't have a lot of strength or energy right now, I'm afraid."

Jon grimaced. "I'm sorry but we have little time. I will give you another day to recover but we must start your training tomorrow. I am going to quadruple your rations to make up for the weight you will lose from training."

Sophina's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Quadruple rations?" she said faintly.

Even Ashford looked taken aback. "Isn't that a little too much?"

"No, trust me. You still have to recover the fat you lost from the healing and your training isn't going to make that easier. On the bright side, you are going to be leaner and quicker than you ever were before."

"I can't wait," she groaned.

*** 

Raynolt left the council meeting feeling little better than he did before going in. The council was proving to be stubborn about the method of fighting this war. At least they didn't dismiss his idea just yet. If I ever forget why I wanted to rise to power, then I only need to spend five minutes with this lot! They are the reason why I have to change how things are done in this country.

He also found it hard to stomach the sight of Lenard and Morgana sitting in front of him, glancing at him every so often. They still wanted answers. He had summoned them the night before, after his meeting with Sanje, to tell them of his plan to assassinate Reynar during the Summer Festival.

They had pestered him with questions about how he was to accomplish that. He told them he had discovered a weakness in Reynar's shields. Raynolt almost smiled as he said it. He had made a promise to himself to take to heart what Reynar told him and it was already coming in handy.

He didn't get a good read on either of them during that meeting. But a spy had to be a well-trained actor to go so long undetected. Sanje kept watch last night on the palace and reported this morning of no unusual activity. He said he will have Magi Victus stationed around the palace all day long.

So Raynolt lingered after the meeting to make sure neither one of them stayed behind to talk to Reynar. They came to talk to him again about the details of his plan. He waved them off and told them all will be revealed in due time.

Raynolt brought his thoughts back to the present as he entered the large doorway of the Emporium. Now that the search for the spy was out of his hands, he could concentrate on preparing the Magi for war. He had never imagined there were so many little tasks to accomplish to start a war. The stack of papers and the group of Magi battle-masters waiting in his office daunted him.

The battle-masters wouldn't be happy that the strategy of the war had yet to be determined. But there were hundreds of other tasks to complete in the mean time. He just hoped that Sanje found the spy before the Summer Festival. His life depended on it.

***

Sophina groaned as she strapped on her familiar breastplate. The weight of her armor nearly buckled her knees. I'm still not strong enough for this. Jon saved her life but that didn't stop her from feeling bitter about her current weakness.

She unsheathed her sword and held it straight out in her right arm. Her arm quivered and she had to quickly lower it. Sweat was already beading on her forehead. The muscles in her legs were screaming. She slammed her sword back in its sheath and stalked from her room.

She stopped at the doorway. "I will be back shortly," she told Evelyn. Evelyn said nothing as she continued to sit in her chair and stare at the wall.

Sophina sighed and closed the door. She made her way down the hall and knocked on Jon's bedroom door. "Come in," he said.

Sophina pushed open the door and walked in. Jon rose from his small desk and put down a quill. Sophina looked around the room. He had a large four-poster bed in the center of the room and a small desk in the left corner. There was a plain wooden chest in front of his bed. That was all the furniture the room held.

"Impressive," Sophina smirked, indicating the room with her hand.

Jon nodded as though it was a real compliment. "A warrior needs no other treasure than the sword in his hand and his enemies at his feet, am I right?"

Sophina laughed. "That sounds nice but I doubt you will find many warriors who follow that belief."

Jon smiled. "Ok, maybe a warrior needs a little more than that. Perhaps tokens of his defeated enemies?"

Sophina nodded. "I knew many soldiers who liked to loot the battlefield."

"A wise man once told me that a man should not show his wealth for all to see. Rather, he should keep it secret to deter thieves and to make his enemies underestimate him." Jon held out his hand, inviting Sophina to follow him.

Frowning, Sophina nodded. Where could we go in this small room? Jon walked to the far right wall and pressed his hand against a small brick in the middle of the wall. Immediately, a seam appeared along the length of the wall and swung open to reveal a cleverly designed door.

Sophina shook her head. This man has hidden doors everywhere! I wonder, did he build this place himself?

"After you," Jon said, bowing low to her.

Sophina smirked and walked through the doorway. She stopped immediately, her mouth suddenly hanging open. It was a large circular room with a padded floor. Weapon racks containing hundreds of different types of weapons circled the room. And hanging on the stone walls were the most beautiful weapons and armor she had ever seen. They made the ancient weapons decorating Jon's living room look like children's toys.

Sophina stood in the center of the room, slowly circling to take it all in. Her eyes lingered on a set of armor that decorated a wooden dummy. The armor was designed in overlapping scales and was a deep, emerald green. She spotted a spear on the wall that had to be almost ten feet long. Long, colorful feathers adorned the spearhead. The metal gleamed in the mage-light.

"So what do you think?" Jon asked, startling Sophina.

She had forgotten that he was even there. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "Where did you get all of this?"

"I have collected it over the years," he replied casually.

"But I don't even recognize some of these weapons! What period did they come from?"

"A long time ago," he said simply. "Now that you have had your fill, are you ready to start?"

Sophina eyed the weapons in the weapon racks. She glanced down at her own battered sword. "I don't know. My armor already strains my endurance and my sword feels too heavy."

"First, take off that armor. You will no longer wear armor. It will only slow you down."

Sophina gasped. "Are you insane? I will get massacred without armor!"

"Take it off," Jon repeated. "I will teach you to kill your enemies before they have time to kill you. Eventually, you will wear light armor but nothing more."

Sophina stared at him doubtfully but began removing her armor. When she deposited the last piece on the floor, she let out a sigh of relief. She could breathe again. Jon strode over to the weapon racks and took his time selecting weapons. Finally, he pulled two wooden practice swords from a barrel. He tossed one to Sophina.

Sophina caught it and brought it close to her eyes. It was not the type of sword she was used to. Her sword was a large, double-edged longsword. The practice sword she now held was much lighter and had only one edged side that curved upwards.

She looked up at Jon. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He spun his practice sword in his hand and brought it up before him. "Yes, this type of sword will be much better suited to you. You won't be hacking through armor like you did on the battlefield. You will be as quick as lightning."

He suddenly darted forward and thrust his sword in a short jab. Sophina gasped and jumped back. His speed was incredible. She watched in awe as he darted around, slashing and stabbing his sword in a beautiful dance of death.

"You will strike where there is weakness." His sword was a blur in his hand. "You will read every movement your opponent makes like a book." His sword dance changed. Somehow he made it look like he was engaging an imaginary foe. Sophina almost wanted to laugh in child-like wonder.

"A master swordsman will often finish a fight in one move."

Sophina felt her heart clinch in terror as Jon suddenly appeared in front of her, his sword resting against her neck. "That's not fair," she whispered.

Jon lowered his sword and raised his eyebrow. Sophina hurried to explain. "You are a Magi Victus. You can manipulate the magic in your body to achieve a speed that is otherwise inhumanely possible."

"Yes, I can," Jon agreed. He titled his head and studied her. "But I didn't manipulate my magic just now."

Sophina's eyes widened. "Impossible! You moved too fast!"

"Years of practice," Jon shrugged. He leaned in closer. "Listen, Sophina. I will teach you the best I can for the next month. But it's only a month. If I had several years to teach you, I could turn you into a master swordsman. You have the raw talent. But we don't have that time. So how much you improve over this next month is up to you, understand?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 09



"Yes," she replied. She longed to move as fast and gracefully as he did. She didn't even realize it until just now. If she survived and cleared her name, she wanted nothing more than to continue her training. She wanted to become a master swordsman with a desperation she never knew she felt.

Jon must have seen something of her thoughts on her face because he suddenly smiled. "Good, now that we have that settled, shall we begin?"

"Where do we start?"

Jon walked to a nearby cabinet and dug around for several minutes. He walked back to her, carrying what looked like a tunic and leggings. "Put these on," he told her.

Sophina grabbed the tunic and gasped. It was very heavy. She felt along the cloth and discovered small lumps sewn all over the tunic. She looked up at Jon, her eyes asking her question.

"I've sewn small blocks of steel into the cloth of the tunic and leggings. It will feel weird at first but you will grow use to it. You are to wear these at all times."

Sophina took off her tunic and replaced it with the weighted one. "What is this for?"

Jon picked up her discarded tunic and hung it on a rack. "It will greatly enhance your speed. Your body will become accustomed to the weight. Once you take it off, you will notice right away how much faster you move."

Sophina never heard of this technique in her life. Still, it made sense. "That's genius!"

Jon bowed his head at the compliment. He waited to speak until Sophina tied the laces on the weighted leggings. "How does it feel?"

Sophina held out her arms. "It feels...heavy, like my armor, but not as constricting. I have plenty of room to breathe."

"Like I said, you will wear these at all times, expect when bathing and sleeping. For today, I will teach you the basic sword techniques."

"Are they like the ones they taught us in the army?" Sophina asked as she stretched out her muscles.

Jon snorted contemptuously. "Those rigid sword forms? No, I will not be teaching you any of those foolish moves. I will teach you adaptability and improvisation. I will teach you the proper stances for balance. I will teach you how to counterattack and strike where there are openings."

"Adaptability and improvisation?" Sophina asked, confused.

Jon nodded. "You must be fluid and ready to adapt to any style or form. I will teach you the weaknesses of every move and how to counter it. This is much more...cerebral than your basic training. Do you understand?"

Sophina thought she did. The way he explained things made sense to her. "I must use my brain as much as my sword."

Jon smiled and Sophina thought it was truest smile she had seen from him yet. "Very good, Sophina. Let's begin."

***

In the end, Raynolt had his way. Or rather Reynar had his way, as much as it angered Raynolt to admit it. The council reluctantly agreed to Raynolt's plan for the war. After the initial shock of the battle to come during the Summer Festival, word would be put out in the city warning the citizens to stay indoors at night. They would even offer gold to anyone who could point the Magi towards a Magi Victus.

Raynolt was pleased to have achieved that much because his own personal task was not fairing well. It had been two weeks since he baited Lenard and Morgana. But despite constant surveillance by Sanje and his men, they had yet to leave the Emporium for the palace. Sanje reported no suspicious activity at the gate of the palace. The only Magi who entered were the councilors for the daily meetings. If Reynar had another method for contacting his spy, Raynolt couldn't figure it out.

"Who's to patrol Beggar's Hell?" Lenard asked, snapping Raynolt from his thoughts.

Raynolt scanned the list on his desk. "Who's more familiar with that area?"

Lenard and Morgana scanned their own lists. They were sitting in front of his desk in his office. The sun had just set, which meant they still had a long night ahead of them. Two more councilors would meet with him every hour, until he talked to all ten councilors. 

It grated on Raynolt's nerves because the meetings were redundant; his plans would be solidified with Lenard and Morgana before he had even met with the others. He found it ironic that even though Lenard or Morgana was a spy, he still trusted them with his plans. 

He met with the other councilors just to give them the illusion of respect. They were annoyed that he would only meet them two at a time, but he could care less about what they felt about that.

"I think Pernell and Fernon should lead the patrol group there. They have both been outspoken about cleaning up Beggar's Hell, so they are familiar with the area," Morgana offered.

Raynolt nodded his agreement and made a notation on his list. There were still two weeks left until the Summer Festival but Raynolt knew they would be cutting it close with the battle strategy. Try as he might, Raynolt couldn't figure out why Reynar was so insistent on starting the war so soon. Raynolt had planned for at least a year to get ready when he made his play for power.

The clock on his mantle chimed the turn of the hour. Lenard and Morgana shuffled their papers and stood to leave. "Good luck with them tonight," Lenard said, referring to the council. "They were arguing up a storm this morning about your plans to include them in the patrol groups."

"Cowards," Raynolt growled. "They sure have a high opinion of themselves, don't they?"

Lenard didn't smile. "Personally, I don't care much for the idea of going up against the Magi Victus. The Emporium needs leadership; otherwise we are going to have a bunch of idiots leading the council when we die." Even Morgana was nodding at his words.

When did the two of them ever share the same thought? "Everyone fights," Raynolt snapped, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Lenard bowed his head. "As you command, Grand Master." If he was mocking him, he hid it well.

Raynolt waved them away irritably. They opened the door and walked past Safre Howe and Shona Felize, the 2nd and 3rd Tier masters, respectively. Safre and Shona bowed their heads in greeting, but Raynolt paid no attention. His mind was still on Lenard and Morgana, as it had been for over two weeks.

Which one is it? I need to find out before the Summer Festival! Safre and Shona hesitated as they took their seats. Raynolt couldn't see the murderous look in his own eyes.

***

Jon sat by Evelyn's side and listened intently to her heart beat. She gave no sign that she noticed his presence. Ever since she tried to kill him, her mind had locked itself away, leaving her in an unresponsive state. For the last two weeks, Jon visited Evelyn and sat beside her. And everyday for two weeks, he said not a word.

I'm still not ready yet. It had been so long since Jon had known fear that it was almost a new feeling for him. Marcus told him that he knew what needed to be done to bring Evelyn back. And he did know. He just wasn't ready for it yet.

He heard the familiar sign of metal clinking together as Sophina walked into the room. She wore her weighted clothing at all times. He looked up from Evelyn's side and nodded in greeting. Sophina sat on the edge of the bed and looked sadly at Evelyn.

"Still no change?" she asked softly, as though afraid of spooking Evelyn.

Jon shook his head. "Not yet."

Sophina sighed. "It means a lot to me...how you've been coming here everyday to keep her company. Sometimes I suspect that you are a good man."

"Don't tell anybody that," Jon said, smiling. "They will think you're crazy and cut you down where you stand."

"They won't find that an easy proposition," she replied, winking.

Jon had to agree with that. In little more than two weeks, Sophina had improved dramatically. While still very skinny, she had put on weight and muscle. Her cheekbones were still very sharp in her face and her cheeks were still a little sunken, but her ribs no longer showed. She regained the strength in her right arm, which was now thick and lean with muscle.

She had a wiry strength about her now, he had to admit. She might not ever be as robust as she was before her healing, but she was faster than she had ever been. He lamented the fact that he only had one month to train her. He had found some small measure of peace in teaching her. If he had two years, he could make her into a master swordsman.

He sighed and let the thought drift away. Life was never what you wanted it to be. You just had to deal with reality and try to carve out what freedom you could from it. "You ready to begin?" he asked, rising from his chair.

She rose up from the bed and nodded. She was always eager to begin her training. He had to shake his head; her eagerness was infectious. It surprised Jon to learn that he had a passion for teaching.

"Have you trained with Ashford today?" she asked as he led her to the training room.

"We worked before breakfast. He is just as eager as you." Jon shook his head. "And he is just as talented. He's soaking up the spells I am teaching him like a sponge."

"You think I am talented?" Sophina asked, pride ringing in her voice.

Jon looked at her, bemused. "I wouldn't be wasting my time if it was otherwise."

Sophina tried to keep the smile from her face but failed miserably. Jon found that he took just as much pride in her as she did from his training. She was a good student.

They stretched in companionable silence for several minutes in the quiet of the training room as they prepared for the day's training. "Do you really think Evelyn can come back to her senses?" Sophina asked suddenly.

Jon felt his good mood evaporate. "Yes, that's what I hope." Just not yet.

Sophina finished stretching and picked up her practice sword. "Why do you care so much? Is there something special about her?"

Jon slid into his battle stance as he faced Sophina. He leaned on his practice sword as he addressed her. "I don't know, Sophina. I think something might have happened the night Daminus died, but I can't be sure."

Sophina smacked the padded floor several times with her sword as she frowned in thought. She looked up at Jon and asked, "What are soul-mates?"

Jon had no desire to discuss the topic but knew it was a good opportunity to prepare for what was needed to bring Evelyn back. "Soul-mates are hardly understood, Sophina. According to lore, every person has a soul-mate somewhere in the world. But since the world is so vast and life is so short, most people never meet their soul-mate."

"I have a soul-mate?" Sophina asked. She grimaced in disgust. Jon wanted to laugh.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I have lived a long time and never found mine. I like to think we make our own soul-mates."

"I like that better," Sophina said, smiling. He could tell she was thinking of Evelyn.

He would have to set her straight. "But what is known for sure is that when a person meets their soul-mate, they both know it right away. Once their love is consummated, a bond forms between them. This is very old magic; perhaps a remnant of the magic the God used to create the world."

"How do they know right away?"

Jon shrugged. "I think you would have to experience it to understand it. Listen, Sophina...once a person dies, their soul-mate will not long survive them. It is a very dangerous magic. For all the joy it brings, it also comes with unbearable grief. And not just for the soul-mates..."

He shook his head and saw Sophina staring at him sadly. "Sometimes I think you know more than you let on," she said quietly.

Jon laughed to cover the fear that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. "I've never been in a soul-bond, as I said earlier."

"But you have been involved in some way, haven't you?" Her tone was gentle.

She is sharp. I never considered how double-edged this training could be. I have taught her to read the movements of her opponent. This new perception doesn't just apply to fighting. He would have to be careful in the future with what he taught her.

"Are we going to talk all day or do you want to spar?" He winced as soon as he spoke. He knew it was obvious that he avoided her question.

Mercifully, she didn't press him. Instead, they came together in a clash of wooden swords. Jon led her through the now familiar dance. She had picked up the moves easily, even adding some personal touches of her own. He liked her spirit.

The dance began with a slow over-exaggeration of thrusts and parries. As the dance moved on, they steadily picked up speed until the swords blurred in their hands. After two weeks, the faster moves were coming easier to her. She still made a few mistakes, but she laughed them off and pressed on harder than before.

He looked into her eyes and admired how they gleamed with joy. She belonged to the sword, just as surely as Jon did. The Magi used to ridicule him for risking himself in sword fights during battle. Indeed, he could have flung his magic from the rear, as they did, and kill ten times more men than he did with the sword. But they never understood the honor of standing toe to toe with an enemy, where your skill would reveal the better man.

He smiled as he danced with Sophina. He remembered how he wiped the sneers from their faces when armies began leaving a clear space around him during battle. No one wanted any part of him during the last few years of the war.

He missed the sword. Ever since he picked up his Shadow Dagger, he no longer needed a sword. No, that wasn't quite right. He stopped using a sword when Berrick...

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize he had picked up his pace. Sophina sweated and breathed through her nose as she struggled to keep up. Jon smiled apologetically and slowed his speed.

Sophina broke away from him in disgust. "You're toying with me!" She was red-faced in anger and embarrassment.

"Sorry," Jon replied. "I lost myself in the rhythm of our dance. You are doing great, much better than I expected."

She did not appear mollified. "What's the point? I began to think I am catching up with you and then you speed up so effortlessly!"

Jon laughed. "How I love your spirit! Don't get frustrated, it's barely been two weeks. Your speed has already vastly improved. And don't forget that I have been doing this for...hundreds of years." He hoped she didn't notice his slip. He didn't want her to know he counted his years in millenniums.

She sighed and the tension left her shoulders. "Thank you. You're right...it's just that I know we are running out of time. I want to be at my best."

"You will be, trust me. You're already a match for most of your fellow guards. You could probably stand toe to toe with the King's personal guards."

She blushed at his compliment and toyed with her tunic. He smiled. "Let's take a break and get you some food."

"Already?" she asked incredulously. "I just ate two hours ago!"

"You still haven't fully recovered," he reminded her. "You are burning off most of it in this training. Just be thankful I haven't put you on five rations a day."

"I am hungry," she admitted sheepishly. "The training arouses my hunger."

"Your body knows what it needs now," Jon agreed. They made their way down the hallway toward the living room.

"So do you have a plan yet?" she asked.

Jon slowed down and stopped outside Evelyn's room. He glanced at her door. "Not yet," he admitted. "Before I figure out what our best plan is, I still need to..."

"Need to what?" Sophina asked when it was clear he wouldn't continue.

Jon shook his head. He felt guilt begin to creep up in his mind. He ignored it. "Nothing," he told Sophina, and continued walking down the hallway. He still had time.

***

As silent as the wind, Sanje landed on the rooftop and crouched low. He made his way to the edge of the roof. A shadow, which a moment before had blended perfectly into the night, moved toward him.

"Master Victus," a voice greeted him respectfully.

"How are things, Lauden?"

They both moved to the edge of the roof before Lauden spoke. "Nothing suspicious so far."

Sanje nodded. It had been this way for nearly a month. He fought down his frustration as best as he could. He needed to give his men some time away before the war started. Instead, he had them constantly watching the palace.

The entire palace shone with brightly in the dead of night. Part of the light was simple torches and the other part was mage-light. The combination was really quite beautiful. "It's getting close," Lauden said.

"I know." The Summer Festival was only two days away now. Catching Raynolt's spy was very important to their plans, but so far they've caught nothing. Sanje was beginning to think that there was no spy. He couldn't shake the feeling that Raynolt had invented the whole thing in some plot to double-cross him. The only reason he continued to go along with it was because he thought their history demanded at least an attempt at trust. He wouldn't betray Sanje; not yet, anyways.

Sanje sighed and moved back from the edge. "I will come back to relieve you soon. I need to check on the other positions."

Sanje turned to go when Lauden's hand shot out and caught his arm. "Wait," he hissed under his breath. He nodded toward the palace.

Sanje crept to the edge of the roof to see what he was looking at. They were sitting on a roof facing the east side of the palace wall. Sanje immediately saw what captured Lauden's attention. A cloaked figure was stealthily making their way toward the wall.

Sanje held his breath and felt a flash of hope. This was the most suspicious activity he had seen yet. The cloaked figure stopped by a tree a few feet from the wall. The cloaked figure glanced to either side before reaching out with a gloved hand to rap on the wall.

Sanje's eyes widened in surprise as a section of the wall slide out like a door. Whoever engineered it must have known what they were doing. The crevices of the door blended perfectly with the rest of the wall. A guard holding a torch was standing behind the door. He beckoned the cloaked figure inside.

Sanje started believing in fate that very night. In the dark of night, he was too far away to clearly see the cloaked figure. But the guard stepped forward and brought his torch closer. The light shone upon the cloaked figure as the hood turned left and right to make sure they were alone. And in that instant Sanje saw the features inside the hood very clearly.

"Did you see that?" Lauden asked, astonished.

Sanje cursed under his breath. "Yes I did. I just lost a lot of gold on a bet. I could have sworn it would have been the other one."

Lauden chuckled. "I could have told you to never bet against Vance. That man has freakish luck."

Sanje turned to go. He had to go tell Raynolt that he was sleeping with his enemy.

***

"Here," Jon called, throwing Sophina her old tunic and trousers.

Sophina caught them and looked up at him, confused. "What are these for?"

"Tonight is our last training session. I want you to see the difference the weight has made."

Sophina's smile lit up her face. Jon was glad to see her so happy. He had finally taken her off the extra rations yesterday and she couldn't have been happier about it. She had filled out more over the last couple of weeks. Her bones no longer protruded so visibly from her skin. If she continued his sword training, she would probably never regain her old body weight.

Still, she was looking much better. Her hair had grown out more to frame her face. She kept it dyed black for the disguise but with the weight loss and longer hair, Jon doubted anyone would instantly recognize her.

She changed quickly, no longer bothered about modesty in changing in front of him. She grabbed her practice sword and stood in front of him, smiling from ear to ear. "Let's begin," she said.

Jon chuckled and suddenly darted at her. Her eyes widened momentarily and then narrowed in concentration. He led her quickly through the slow start of their routine. In no time at all, he pushed the speed until their swords clacked together non-stop.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 09



After several minutes, he pushed her faster than they had gone before. She kept poised and matched him stroke for stroke. After several lightning-fast exchanges, her eyes widened in surprise. A smile spread across her face as her body moved faster than she thought possible.

"Your body grew use to the weight of your clothing," he told her between parries.

Her eyes gleamed as she eagerly pressed him faster. Slowly, he let her batter down his defenses. He saw the flash of triumph in her eyes as more openings appeared in his defenses. He almost felt guilty about the next lesson he had to teach her.

Her eyes widened as a noticeable gap suddenly appeared in his defense. In her eagerness, she forgot to maintain her own defenses as her sword thrust through the opening. Her thrust was faster than most people could follow. But Jon was much faster.

She stumbled as her sword did not meet the resistance she thought would be there. Jon planted his boot on her ass and shoved her across the room. She stumbled to the floor. Before she could turn over and get back up, Jon's sword was lying against her neck. 

He tapped her twice. "You're dead."

She grunted and dropped her head back to the floor. "Bastard," she mumbled.

He reached down and helped her back up. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. "What did you just learn?" he asked.

She rubbed her ass and grimaced. "That you kick like a mule."

He shook his head but couldn't keep the smile off his face. "You were overconfident. A true master swordsman would never fall for that trick. I let you believe you were wearing down my defenses."

She hung her head. "I know, I let my eagerness dull my wits, you don't have to tell me."

"I'm glad you recognize that. Never underestimate your opponent and, conversely, never overestimate your own skills. When you find an opening, maintain your balance and keep your defenses tight, just in case it is a trick. You will be slower but you won't be risking your life."

She bowed low. "Thank you, Master."

Jon waved his hand. "I told you not to call me that."

She shrugged. "That is how I was taught. You are my master and I am your student."

"You know you got Ashford calling me that now? Thanks a lot." He chuckled as he said it.

Sophina frowned and twisted her wooden sword in her hand. Something was obviously bothering her. "What's wrong? You can call me that if you really want to."

She threw the sword down and sighed. "When you mentioned Ashford, it reminded me of your training this morning."

"Yeah..." Jon said slowly. Was she jealous?

She toyed with the floor with her boot and didn't look up. "It's just that...what you two were doing was so beautiful and so...powerful. Those spells were awe-inspiring, really. And it makes me wonder...what am I doing here? Not that I don't appreciate your training!" she added hastily.

"What are you getting at?"

She looked up at him then. She looked scared. "I'm just a soldier. We're about to head into a middle of a war with Magi and Magi Victus. A soldier doesn't stand a chance in a war like that."

"Sophina, there aren't that many Magi and Magi Victus alive in the world today. Most of the fighting will be done by the Magi's soldiers."

"Yeah I know," she sighed. "But I'm not fighting in that war. We are going to have to fight Magi. I'm...not going to be any use to you." She hung her head.

Her desperation to fight touched something inside of him. He suddenly knew what he had to do. Marcus had once told him a moment like this would come. He told him this after he asked the same old question. It was the same question Jon had been asking himself lately.

A voice rose up from the depths of his mind. Why did you keep the sword? Jon never wanted to contemplate the answer to that. But he suddenly knew what he had to do.

"Wait here," he told her. She looked up at him, hope flaring in her eyes. He turned away from that look and walked toward an old chest in the corner of the room.

The chest seemed out of place compared to the wealth that surrounded it. It was made from an unremarkable wood and showed the ravages of age. Still, it was sturdy enough to fit its purpose. He grabbed the chain that hung around his neck and pulled out a rusty key from underneath his tunic. He inserted it into the equally old lock and turned it.

Flakes of rust drifted off the lock as it finally let go of its burden. He pulled it off and it practically crumbled in his hand. It might not have been smart to keep that same lock for so long. He tossed it aside and opened the lid of the chest.

Dust of many long years floated up into the air. The chest held a long object wrapped in a material that no longer existed. Now that the moment had arrived, he was suddenly hesitant. I think it's time, Jon. The voice sounded like Sarah's.

He suppressed an old ache in his heart and pulled the object out. He blew the dust off the cloth. It was a shimmering red color with tiny sparrows of gold thread wound through it. He walked back to Sophina, holding it out in front of him.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"Open it," he told her. He held it out in his hands.

She reached a shaking hand out and pulled on the ribbon that tied it shut. It slid apart smoothly. She gasped as the cloth fell away and fluttered to the ground. Jon held out the sword to her, hilt first.

The hilt was wrapped in a red and gold thread. The sheath that covered it was red with gold sparrows. Jon hadn't looked upon it for many years. It was still one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

Damn you, Berrick.

Sophina continued to hold the sword up to her eyes as she drank in the sight hungrily. She looked up at him. "May I?"

"Of course." She held out the sheath to him. He held it firmly as she slowly pulled the blade free. It came out at as silent as death.

"Oh, God," Sophina breathed. The mage-light in the room shone off the silver blade brilliantly. Even Jon stood in awe at the sight. He had only allowed himself to look upon it once, a long time ago.

The blade had been folded more times than Jon could count. It held a single edge and curved upwards, just like their practice swords. Sophina held the blade by her side. It reached all the way from her heel up to her elbow.

"I have never held such a magnificent weapon," she said, her voice filled with wonder. She took an experimental swipe. The blade sang as it whipped through the air. "It's so light!" she exclaimed.

She held up the blade to her eyes and ran her thumb along the edge very lightly. It sliced through her skin as easily as it would through air. She sucked her thumb and continued to stare at it in awe. She gasped as her eyes trailed along the blade.

"Yes?" Jon asked, knowing full well what she saw.

"I know what this is!" She stared at Jon, her eyes wide. He nodded for her to continue. "These markings that run up the blade? They're those magical runes you and Ashford talk about! I've heard about weapons like these! Every soldier dreams about the weapons the Magi blacksmith enchant with their very lives. How did you get one?"

"From a friend," Jon replied somberly.

Sophina nodded, not really paying attention to his words. "I can't believe I am holding this. It feels like I can almost feel the magic humming in it. What does it do?"

Jon shrugged. "I never tried it out."

Sophina stared at him incredulously. Then she slowly frowned in thought. "I can see why. This weapon is too beautiful to mar with blood. So you have no idea what magic it possesses?"

"I can guess," he offered. He examined the runes on the blade. He had seen them only once. And in all that time since, he could never figure out what they meant. "The runes resemble the ones for protection. But they are slightly different. It's more...pointed. Or sharper, if you will."

"It's beautiful," she said again.

"Dance with it." Jon stepped back and gave her the center of the room.

"No, I couldn't! I'm not worthy of this sword!" But her eyes shone with a different light. She longed to use it.

"Please," Jon replied.

She didn't need to be asked again. She strode to the center of the room and took a deep breath. He gave her a nod of encouragement. She soon lost her nervousness in the dance he had taught her over the last month.

The sword hummed and buzzed as she increased her tempo. To Jon's eyes, the runes began to shine with power as the sword whipped through the air faster and faster. Some instinct took over him at that moment. Before he knew what he was doing, he had embraced his magic and flung a fireball at her.

What have I done! His body seemed frozen as the fireball traveled the short distance toward Sophina. She was so lost in her dance that she didn't even notice the ball of fire flying toward her. Before the fireball struck, she turned in her dance and slashed downward, right into the path of the fireball.

The runes on the sword flared and the fireball split to either side of her and turned into smoke. To Jon's eyes, the runes that made up the fireball were sliced.

He stared dumbfounded at her and the sword. She looked back at him in shock. Neither of them moved. She still held the sword down in the slashing motion and he still held his hand out from where he threw the fireball.

"What in the nine hells?" she breathed.

Jon blinked. "Unbelievable." He had never seen anything like it. He had bought several swords made by the modern Magi blacksmiths but they were practice swords compared to the one she held in her hand.

"Did you just...did I...what happened?" she asked desperately.

"The sword sliced through the spell," Jon told her in disbelief.

"It...it sang triumphantly when it sliced the fireball. I don't know how to describe it..." She stared at the blade in awe.

"Beautiful." It was an understatement, but Jon's brain was overloaded at the moment.

"He must have been a very good friend," Sophina said.

Jon shook his head. "No, actually, he wasn't."

Sophina rocked back at the venom in his voice. "Then why would he give you this sword?"

"He...sought to buy my forgiveness."

Sophina glanced at the sword. "But...don't the Magi who make these weapons die in order to permanently enchant it?"

Jon nodded. "He arranged for it to be delivered to me. Like I said, I never used it. I never forgave him."

She looked at him sadly. "Then why did you keep it?"

The question jolted him and echoed in his mind. It reached down into his dreams and begged answer to the question that haunted him. He turned his head so he wouldn't have to see the sword. He felt something tear inside of him as he began to speak.

"He was my best friend. He betrayed me and stole everything from me. I...I couldn't forgive him but...I couldn't get rid of the sword either. It's his soul in there...As much as I hate him, I love him just as equally. I..." He bit his lip to keep his tears from falling. Nobody would ever see him cry. That part of him was dead.

"I could see him dead but I could never see his soul disappear from this world. He was a good man, despite what happened." He couldn't talk anymore; his throat had seized up. His eyes burned painfully with unshed tears.

Sophina walked over to him and forced him to meet her eyes. "I don't think that's why you kept it."

He stared at her and refused to let the tears fall. He silently begged her not to say anything more, but at the same time he longed to hear her answer. She reached out and stroked his face. "I think you kept the sword because, deep in your heart, you already forgave him."

He closed his eyes and was ashamed to feel the tear escape from under his eyelid. She was right. He had forgiven him a long time ago. But the pain from his betrayal allowed him to go on, so he used it and milked it. He convinced himself that he hated Berrick with all his heart. He did not. And just like that, he was ready to face Evelyn.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. He was shocked to see tears falling down her cheek.

"You're welcome." She smiled tremulously.

He felt his heart ease inside his chest. She had given him more peace than he had felt in over two thousand years. It felt strange to have an old part of himself back. He felt more alive now. "I have something I need to do."

She nodded and handed the sword toward him. He took it and sheathed it. He handed it back to her. She gave him a confused look. "I thought we just solved this? You can carry it now."

He smiled. It felt good to really smile again. "It was never meant for me."

Sophina covered her mouth with her hand. Jon looked down and coughed as Sophina began sobbing. "You deserve it," he mumbled, embarrassed. "Besides, you don't have to worry about being defenseless against Magi now, remember?"

"Thank you," she sobbed as she hugged him. He patted her awkwardly on the back. She sniffed loudly and stepped back. She took the sword in trembling hands.

"Wear it proudly," he told her. 

He made sure she was ok before leaving. He walked down the hallway with renewed purpose. He opened the door to Evelyn's room and closed it behind him. She sat in her chair, unmoving.

"It's time to come back, Evelyn."

*** 

It was cold. And dark. And she was so very tired. The pain came and went like the tide. She cradled Daminus' head in her lap and stroked his hair. Blood hung thick around his mouth. No matter how hard she tried to clean it, it would never come off. As always, she ignored the pool of blood beneath them.

"I'm tired, my love," she told him, absently stroking his face. She was use to his silence. It just made her feel good to talk to him. She hugged him tighter as the pain came roaring back. Her heart tore apart in her chest, leaving her gasping for air. She coughed up blood.

"It hurts," she whimpered. The wound in her back pulled painfully on her muscles. Her lungs were full of blood. She had to cough up great amounts of blood just to draw in a breath.

"I want to go home. Why can't we go home?" She shook him gently. He made no response. She wailed, the breath gurgling in her lungs.

It's time to come back, Evelyn. 

The thought floated through her mind. That was odd; it didn't seem to be her thought. She must be going crazy. She ran her fingers through Daminus' hair again. "I think I'm starting to go crazy." She laughed and then winced at the pain.

"No, you're not."

Evelyn gasped and looked down. Daminus' eyes were open. He was looking at her. "My love!" she screamed, burying her head into his chest.

He patted her head. "Sit up. We need to talk."

She sat up and wiped her eyes. Her tears were blinding her. She wanted to see her husband again. There was time for tears later. Oddly, she felt no pain at the moment.

"You are so brave," he told you, shining his beautiful smile at her.

We need you to come back.

Evelyn cocked her head and smiled, unsure. "Why do you speak in my mind? I can hear you perfectly."

"That's not me," he told her gently. "You need to listen to it."

"Bah!" she snorted. "I have my husband back. Why do I need to listen to some strange voice?"

He looked aside. "I don't have long, my love. Let's listen to the voice."

"Ok," she said. She always had faith in him. If he said the voice was important, who was she to disagree?"

I know you must hate me...for what I did. And I know what kind of pain you are in.

Evelyn bristled at the presumptuousness of the voice. Who was he to say he understood her pain? He had no idea!

I understand why you went away. That kind of pain...must be unbearable. I can't even begin to imagine what you must feel. I won't lie to you, Evelyn. The pain will never completely go away. The loss of a soul-mate will forever change you.

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. She looked at her husband. "What does he mean by the loss of a soul-mate? You are right here!"

Daminus held up his finger to his lips. She scowled at him but focused on the voice again.

Most people think that the surviving member of a soul-bond will waste away and die shortly after their partner. For the most part, that's true. But...I think there is a way to continue on. But what it requires of you is a great sacrifice.

"Do we really have to listen to this?" she asked Daminus irritably. Something about this was scaring her. She couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.

"Please," he begged her. She sighed and did as he said.

Death is easier. Death is always easier. And nobody understands that better than I. I have lived a long time, Evelyn. There are nights when I just want to close my eyes and never have to open them again. You see, I have experienced a great loss like you. And I think...I think it's time I shared that with you.

"I don't want to listen to this!" Evelyn demanded suddenly. She felt memories start to seep in around her awareness. She thought she almost knew who the voice belonged to. Daminus held out his arms to her and she collapsed into them. He stroked her hair and she forced herself to continue listening.

I thought I had met my soul-mate. She was as beautiful as the sun. And she loved me just as much as I loved her. I married her against the wishes of my father. But I didn't care. I knew love like most people could only dream about. Then the war started. I fought and beat death countless of times. But I didn't care. I had my Sarah.

Evelyn felt her fear recede. Maybe this would just be one of those romantic fairy tales. Daminus kissed her head and she smiled. His heart beat was strong.

Then came one of the happiest days of my life. Sarah gave birth to our son. Our little Mathus. I brought them both with me to the war. It was an ill place to raise a son, but we did our best. At that time, I introduced her to my best friend, Berrick. They got along well, I thought.

This was a fairy tale, Evelyn decided. A woman must always have other suitors before the hero ultimately wins her heart.

Out of the corner of my eye I would catch hidden glances between them. I thought nothing of them. Sarah was my heart and I was hers. The war was getting better for our side. The tide was turning. Our son grew older under the shadow of war but we were happy. Then I began notice that Sarah would always have an errand to run everyday. It was unusual because she was always so vague about where she was going.

Evelyn twisted around but Daminus held her tight. She didn't like where this story was going. Daminus began humming and Evelyn relaxed in his arms.

I grew suspicious. Her behavior changed. She always seemed distracted and would never meet my eyes. Our lovemaking slowly faded away. I knew then, I think, but I didn't want to admit it at the time.

"Daminus, let's go home," Evelyn pleaded. The story was turning ugly. Daminus said nothing but continued to hum. Evelyn was getting scared.

Eventually, our base was attacked in surprise one night. I was at the command tent preparing the strategy for the next day. I didn't know where Sarah was. She said she had another errand. As I ran out of my tent when the alarm sounded, I saw her. She stood outside Berrick's tent, half-dressed. Berrick followed her out, his sword in his hand. They both saw me.

"Let me go!" she pleaded with Daminus. He was holding her too tight.

"We're almost there, my love," he whispered brokenly. Sobs racked his chest. The voice even sounded like it was crying.

That night, when our camp fought for their lives against the enemy, I fought my loved ones. I charged Berrick and fought him. Sarah screamed at us but we were too focused to hear her. Berrick was good but I was the best swordsman in the world. I was surprised he fought me honorably and didn't resort to magic. I eventually wore him down. I disarmed him and laid my sword along his neck.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 09



"NO! Daminus, let me go! I can't hear this anymore!" Evelyn fought and struggled but Daminus' grip was like iron. He continued to weep. Evelyn fought the rising tide of fear as memories became clearer in her mind. She knew this voice. It was Jon Laurent. But she didn't know why she knew him.

He never said a word. His eyes were lifeless. Sarah grabbed me and pleaded with me to let him go. I...I knocked her down. Berrick grew enraged at that and grabbed my blade, slicing deep into his hand. He punched me in the stomach and doubled me over. He grabbed me from behind and began to choke the life out of me.

Jon Laurent...he did something. Something horrible. She knew she hated him but not why.

Sarah eventually resorted to magic to break us up. By then, the enemy had retreated from our base. I stormed away, refusing to hear her pleads. I ordered them to another camp and went on to fight the war single-mindedly. I became so ferocious that no soldier dared engage me in battle. Then one day she came back to see me and our son.

She didn't want to hear his voice anymore. A memory was trying to get her attention. She knew it would explain who this man was. But she turned away from it.

By then most of my anger had faded. I was just heart-broken. So I listened to her and I branded my soul with pain as she told me how Berrick was her soul-mate. It was an ancient magic, even back then. She said she had no choice in the matter. She was drawn to him, no matter that her heart lay with me. I didn't forgive her but I let her rejoin my army. We needed her; she was a great fighter. Our enemies made one last stand in the war. It was...a devastating battle.

The memory swam up against her will. She remembered sneaking up behind Jon Laurent with a knife in her hand. She remembered looking at Daminus before she struck.

I was surrounded. My enemies had used my battle fury against me and forced me into an ambush. The last of the true-born cornered me. There were three of them. It usually took ten of us to kill just one. I was dead. That's when Sarah saved my life. She had snuck a contingent of her battle-Magi away from where she was ordered to be and attacked the true-born from behind. They managed to kill two of them. The third one ignored them and came after me. His magic easily overpowered me. He was about to deliver the death-blow...

She saw how her hand trembled as she raised it back for the death-blow. But faster than she could see, a body had blocked her.

Somebody threw themselves in front of the death-blow.

Daminus had thrown himself in front of the death-blow meant for her! He coughed up blood. He told her he loved her. Their soul-bond hummed with a power she had never felt before.

It was Sarah. The true-born was distracted by the sacrifice. I killed him in a rage. Power that I had never felt before filled me and fueled my rage. After it was over, I ran back to her. I held her tight. She told me she loved me. With her dying breath, she asked for my forgiveness. I bowed my head...

Daminus slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She caught him and cradled his body. But he was already dead. Her soul screamed in agony behind imagining.

I whispered...no. I looked up. She was already dead. She never heard my answer, for which I am eternally grateful. I kissed her one last time. Then my soul shattered in grief and pain. I howled to the sky like a deranged wolf.

It was Jon Laurent! He had killed Daminus! She sobbed and Daminus let her go. But she only buried herself deeper in his chest.

I brought the news to Berrick. He had taken up blacksmithing again. The lost look in his eyes told me he already knew. He asked for my forgiveness. I told him no. He nodded as though he had been expecting that answer. He said he had one more thing to do. Life burned in his eyes again. He had purpose.

"Why, my love? Why are you making me listen to him?" She sobbed harder.

Daminus stroked her hair. "Because he wants to provide you life. And I want you to take it."

"I can't live without you!" She clung to his robes desperately.

"Yes you can!" he snapped. "I want you to live life for the both of us!"

You see, Evelyn, there is a way! All you need in order to come back is focus. You need purpose. And I think I have that for you. I didn't kill your husband. I was just the knife. Deep in your heart, you know this is true. But you know who really did kill your husband, don't you?"

Evelyn stopped crying. She sat up and wiped her nose angrily. She looked at Daminus. "Raynolt," she growled. He smiled.

Come back, Evelyn, and have your revenge. Raynolt Teryus killed your husband! Are you going to let him get away with that? Do you want the memory of Daminus to be what Raynolt says it is? Do you know he desecrated his body? He burned it! He burned it so he could grasp power!

Anger flooded her veins like poison. Her mind cleared. She clenched her fist until blood poured from her hands. Daminus nodded passionately at her. "Yes, my love! Avenge me! Keep your purpose alive in your heart and live again!"

She stood up and looked around. The door leading out was shut. But a white light glowed in the crack underneath it. Daminus stood up with her. He walked to the door and pulled it open. White light flooded the room.

Evelyn walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He hugged her fiercely. A remnant of their soul-bond hummed and sang. It eased the pain in her heart and planted a seed of hope.

She looked up at him and he lowered his lips to kiss her. She felt his love pour into her like water from a well. He pushed her back. "Now go, my love; show Raynolt that this world is not for the likes of him."

"I love you," she cried. She hugged him again.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you with all my heart, in this life and the next."

She broke away from his embrace with a scream of pain and jumped into the white light.

Evelyn opened her eyes.

***

Note: Chapter 10 - The mega chaper entitled "The Summer Festival." It is going to be HUGE!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 10



Note: Sorry for the delay in bringing you this chapter. But as you can see, this chapter is a BEHEMOTH! I really wanted to make this chapter special. I can't tell you how many drafts I went through until I was happy. So please leave comments or email me and let me know how I am doing. How is my writing? Am I keeping you intrigued? Please, constructive critism is welcome. I need to know my strengths and weaknesses. Thanks again to all my loyal readers!

Jon dove to the side and rolled across the tiles of the roof. He jumped back up and held his Shadow Dagger in front of him. He managed to catch his breath for a few seconds before a bolt of lightning shot across the roof. He grimaced and deflected the lightning with his dagger. The dagger glowed to the 8th rune on the blade. The lightning struck the tiles several feet to his left and exploded pieces of the roof into the air.

A shadow streaked across his field of vision as shattered roof tiles rained down around him. He whirled around with inhuman speed and deflected the dagger thrust from a Magi Victus. His protection shield cackled with energy as another dagger thrust met the shield at his back. He felt a good portion of his magical energy drain away.

Jon snarled viciously and slashed behind him. The Magi Victus was already gone. A fireball evaporated against his shield as he turned around to engage another Magi Victus. The man was hooded but Jon recognized his movements. He was attacking Vance, an older Magi Victus that he greatly respected.

"Damn you, Vance! We were brothers!" Jon spit at him.

Vance said nothing but continued his attack. Jon knocked his thrusts aside with ease but didn't press his advantage. He would kill Magi all day long but he was reluctant to kill his own brethren. His shield flared again as another Shadow Dagger attempted to penetrate his defenses. He turned away from Vance and sprinted across the roof.

Tremors rattled and cracked the tiles beneath his feet. He fought to keep his balance as a Magi attempted to collapse the roof beneath him. He bent down, placed his hand on the shifting roof, and sang his song of creation. The roof stilled as his counter-spell easily overmatched the Magi's. He quickly traced the path of the magic runes and disappeared, his legs taking him across the roof in seconds.

He reached the edge of the roof and didn't hesitate as he cleared the ten foot jump to the next roof. He rolled as he hit the roof and immediately jumped up, his dagger stabbing impossibly fast ahead of him. The Magi didn't have time to blink before Jon's dagger ripped through his shield and buried itself deep into his chest.

Jon kicked him off of his dagger and the Magi's body tumbled off the roof. A strong gust of wind suddenly attempted to push Jon off the roof but his shield held firm against the assault. He took a deep breath and scanned the roof for his assailant. A Magi needed a clear field of vision to attack his foe. He spotted movement behind a tall chimney. He manipulated the magic in his body and darted off toward the Magi.

He whipped past the chimney and lunged forward. A Magi Victus streaked in front of him and deflected his dagger as he attempted to impale the frighten-looking Magi. The Magi yelped and tumbled back, his knees hitting the edge of the roof. Jon snorted in amusement as the Magi flipped over backward and off the roof. The Magi Victus in front of him pressed his attack.

Jon found his opening and launched a swift knee into the man's groin. The breath whooshed out of his lungs. Jon slammed his fist across his temple and dropped him cold. He straightened up in time to see a group of Magi and Magi Victus land on the far side of the roof.

"There he is!" a familiar voice shouted.

Jon gritted his teeth and charged straight for them. He was immediately slammed by fireballs, lightning strikes, arrows, and daggers. He could feel his shield drain more of his energy at every blow. For the first time in many years, Jon was almost completely exhausted. He had more endurance than most Magi but even he had limits. Magic was both physically and mentally exhausting.

The spot of the roof he was standing on suddenly collasped. He used a surge of magic to jump clear and was immediately met by three Magi Victus. He met and parried as many blows as he could, but these were Magi Victus and they were very fast. His shield deflected what blows he couldn't catch.

The Magi Victus suddenly jumped back as a wall of flame shot toward him. He ducked his head and burst through it. His shield bent and almost broke against the powerful attack. He was just about out of energy now.

The Magi Victus jumped back in and pressed the attack. Jon was driven back to the edge of the roof as lightning fast moves came at him from every direction. Jon suddenly felt rage sweep through his body, giving him greater strength. The last time he felt this battle-lust was during the War of Gods. He had been broken then and had used that grief to fuel his fights. Now he was full of anger toward Sanje and what he had turned his brethren into.

"ENOUGH!" Jon finally roared. He felt more magic energy pour into him as he quickly cast the spell in his mind. Hundreds of jagged bolts of energy erupted from around his whole body.

The energy bolts slammed in and through each of the three Magi Victus' bodies. They were lifted into the air by the non-stop barrage of energy bolts that tore through them like paper. Jon panted in exhaustion as the Magi Victus slammed back to the roof, dead. He felt empty at the loss of both his magic and his brethren. The runes of his shield flickered.

Jon looked up in time to see arrows of flame fly right at him. He grimaced and covered his arms in front of his face. The arrows of flame slammed into his shield. He felt the rest of his energy drain away as his shield finally dissolved. A flame arrow shot through his left shoulder and flung him back.

His senses were dizzied as he hung upside down in the air and watched the ground rush up toward him. He stuck out a hand blindly and felt his right hand snag the edge of the roof. The force of his downward momentum tore his shoulder out of its socket as his body slammed into the side of the building. But his fingers held on tight to the edge of the roof.

His left arm hung useless at his side. He looked at his shoulder and had to swallow the bile that suddenly filled his throat. The sick stench of charred flesh assaulted his nostrils. Smoke still rose from the smoldering hole in his shoulder.

I never pictured this happening when I made my plan yesterday. Jon sighed. His plans always had the habit of not working out.

A shadow appeared above him. Jon squinted into the sun and tried to make out the features beneath the hood. He could sense the man's amusement as he lowered his hood. A boyishly handsome face smiled down at him.

"Sanje," Jon greeted him neutrally.

Sanje's smile turned into a snarl. "My, how the mighty have fallen. I told you I would see you dead, Jon. I believe this is goodbye."

Sanje brought his boot up and slammed it down against Jon's fingers.

***

1 day earlier...

Jon stood in the doorway and watched Evelyn carefully brush her shortened hair. She saw him looking in the mirror and turned around. "I hope you like the hair," Jon said.

Evelyn touched her head. "It's fine. I don't care what my hair looks like, as long as it helps me in my plans."

Jon cocked his head to the side. "And what plans are those?"

Evelyn turned back around and picked up her brush. "Don't play stupid with me," she said angrily, looking at him through the mirror as she resumed combing her hair.

"So you heard everything I told you," he said quietly.

"Your secret is safe with me, if that's what you're worried about." Evelyn sighed and put down her comb again. She turned around and faced him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel about you. You killed my husband. I want to kill you," she finished, hanging her head.

Jon nodded. "I will never deny that I killed your husband. And I will never deny your attempt for vengeance"

Evelyn lifted her head and waited for him to elaborate. He knew she was waiting for him to defend himself. He wasn't that stupid. Finally, she continued. "I also heard you blame Raynolt. What was it you said? That you were only the knife?"

Jon walked further into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes. I was merely the instrument of Raynolt's will." He glanced at her uncertainly. She stared down at her hands and fiddled with her thumbs. "I'm an assassin, Evelyn. You know I speak truth when I say Daminus' death was not personal. But for Raynolt..."

She sniffed and nodded her head. "The thought of taking Raynolt's life keeps the grief away. I will kill him. That is my plan."

"And after?" Jon asked quietly.

She laughed bitterly. "After? I haven't decided about you yet. And we both know there's no after. Your friend Berrick survived long enough to do his task, am I right?"

"Yes," he admitted. "He was a renowned blacksmith. He created a sword for me and then...died."

"Well, my 'sword' is Raynolt's death...and perhaps your death, as well. And as for 'after?' I will just...die, as well."

They sat in silence as each contemplated their own futures. Jon glanced at her. She was staring at the wall, almost exactly as she has done for the past month. But the wetness in her eyes let him know she was still there.

"You might find some meaning in your life, if you survive," he offered her.

She glanced sideways at him. "Let's not deceive ourselves. I'm dead and we both know it. Unless you know a good reason that will keep me alive?"

Jon looked down at his hands and kept quiet. Yes, there is something that will give you hope...but now is not the time to tell you. "No," he told her, hating the lie. But it was necessary; she was not ready to know she carried the hopes of the world on her shoulders.

Jon stood up. "I'm about to give Ashford one last lesson before the Summer Festival tomorrow. I'm going to teach him how to penetrate shields. Would you like to join us?"

Evelyn hesitated a moment before replying. "Yes...I think I will." She gave no further explanation.

Jon nodded and led her out of the room. When he walked into the living room, Ashford rose up from his seat. "Master," he said, bowing.

Jon shot a grimace over at Sophina, who smiled as she oiled her new sword. I'm going to have to pay her back for starting this 'Master' business. Still, he smiled slightly as he walked into the room.

Ashford's eyes flicked toward Evelyn, who stood awkwardly back by the hallway. Jon looked at Sophina. She had stopped oiling her sword and was staring avidly at Evelyn. Neither Ashford nor Sophina had spoken with her since she came back to her senses the night before.

"Hello," Evelyn said, nodding her head in greeting. She looked down at her feet and locked her hands together.

Sophina stood up quickly and wiped her hands on her breeches. She took a hesitant step toward Evelyn. "Evelyn? It's so very wonderful to see you up again."

Evelyn stared at Sophina, confusion painting her features. "Thanks...do I know you?"

Jon winced as he saw the smile drop from Sophina's face. "Evelyn...it's me, Sophina. Remember?"

Evelyn gasped and brought her hands to her lips. She lowered them slowly. "Sophina? What in the nine hells happened to you?"

Sophina blushed and looked self-consciously down at her body. She patted her head and mumbled, "I had a rough month. I had to die my hair for a disguise. And my body...well, I..."

"She almost died and I had to force her body to heal itself," Jon finished for her. He glanced meaningfully at Evelyn.

Evelyn nodded her understanding. "You must have been really hurt if the healing wasted away your body," she said sadly.

Sophina sat back down and stared morosely at her hands. Evelyn looked sadly at her and turned her attention to Ashford. "I can barely recognize you, Ash. In fact, I wouldn't have recognized you if I hadn't already realized that you were with us that...that night." Her voice choked up at the end and she turned her head away.

Ashford took a step toward her and then stopped. "I'm so sorry."

Evelyn wiped her eyes and waved his apology away. "It's ok, Ash."

An uncomfortable silence permeated the air. Ashford rubbed his bald head and looked down at the stone floor. Sophina held her sword in her lap and looked glumly over at Evelyn. Evelyn just looked lost. Another tear snaked down her cheek but she seemed unaware of it.

"Well, we sure are a happy bunch, aren't we?" Jon said lightly. Everyone stared at him before simultaneously breaking out in laughter. Jon was glad to see Evelyn chuckling. The mood lifted and everyone looked more at ease.

"So, are we having that last lesson?" Ashford asked, still chuckling to himself.

"Yes. Evelyn is going to join us in this lesson, as well. I'm going to give you two some pointers on how to penetrate shields."

Ashford looked eager. Jon glanced at Evelyn. She still had a lost look in her eyes but she did seem mildly interested. "Let's start with the basics. A simple 1st Tier shield spell is to shield you from all harm, correct?"

Ashford and Evelyn nodded. This was a basic concept for them but he wanted to establish a foundation that would make his lesson easier to understand. Jon noticed that Sophina was listening intently from her seat. That woman sure is fascinated with magic. He chuckled and turned his attention back to Ashford and Evelyn.

"Ok, so what is the difference between a 1st Tier protection spell and the 2nd Tier spell?"

"The 2nd Tier protection spell utilizes more complex instructions than simply saying, 'protect me from harm,'" Ashford answered quickly.

"Correct," Jon replied. He turned toward Evelyn. "Tell me, Evelyn, why is that important? Why is a 1st Tier protection spell not sufficient enough?"

Evelyn frowned at him. She appeared to consider whether he was mocking her with the simple question. When he just returned her look, she answered slowly. "It's not sufficient enough because it leaves too many gaps in logic. What does 'protect me from harm' mean? What part of your body are you referring to? What constitutes 'harm?' What kind of attacks do you want repelled?"

Jon nodded, pleased with her succinct answer. "What else?"

Evelyn took her time to organize her thoughts. "The spell also doesn't require too much magical energy to maintain. An offensive spell from a higher Tier is sufficiently powerful enough to blast through the shield. The weak magic of the protection spell is overwhelmed by the stronger magic of the offensive spell."

"Good, Evelyn, but not quite accurate. This is what today's lesson is about. How is a shield physically manifested?"

It was Ashford who answered. "Any spell is physically manifested through manipulation. We shape the spells with our fingers, or with our mind, and the result is magical runes that appear only to Magi."

"Magical runes," Jon said musingly. "What are runes, do either of you know?"

Ashford shared a look with Evelyn. Evelyn shrugged her shoulders. "The runes are the written language of creation. We vocalize the spell to bring it into focus and manipulate the written runes of that spell to physically manifest it."

"Good, Ashford. Language is always comprised of two parts: spoken and written. Even the God is not immune to this universal truth. His words shaped his vision and the letters of that language were the earth and all the life in it. Every single grain of sand is a rune."

Ashford laughed incredulously. "Are you saying we are runes?"

"Are we not?" Jon asked. "We are all a part of creation, aren't we?"

Ashford opened his mouth and then closed it. He frowned. Evelyn looked puzzled. "I never thought of it that way," she said slowly. "We use the magic of creation. If the God used the same magic, and he created us, then we are runes!"

"I'll be damned," Ashford whispered. His eyes glowed with the newfound knowledge. Jon knew he would easily grasp the next concept he was about to teach. Or at least he hoped so.

"A protection spell is more than spoken words," Jon continued. "Once cast, a set of runes cover your entire body. These runes are the physical manifestation of the words used to cast the spell. Evelyn, what you said earlier was only partially right. Spells that require more magical energy can rip through a lesser shield. But why waste all that energy when you can simply go around a shield?"

Ashford and Evelyn shared a blank look. "What do you mean?" Ashford asked.

"Think of runes as locks. Locks require a key shaped in a certain way, right?" Jon waited for them to nod before continuing. "One of the first things you are taught at the Emporium is that no two Magi cast the same spell in the exact same way, right?"

"The language of creation is too subtle and too varied to be cast the same way," Ashford confirmed. "Each word of the language can be pronounced differently and the runes can be shaped differently, just like writing a letter. Everybody's handwriting is different."

"Exactly," Jon replied. "So you partially understand the concept of shaping spells differently and still achieving the same result. Now, let's go back to my lock metaphor. You remember what I said earlier about 1st Tier protection spells?"

"I think I know where you're going with this!" Evelyn replied suddenly. Her eyes shone with the thrill of revelation. Jon was happy to see Evelyn set aside her grief for a few moments. "1st Tier spells are too vague to offer much protection and lack sufficient magical energy. But I think you are trying to say that it's the pattern of the runes that's important!"

Jon smiled. "A 1st Tier protection spell is a very easy lock to pick. You might think a 2nd Tier fireball can bypass the shield because it's more powerful; however, a fireball can also be manipulated to be the right-shaped key to bypass the shield completely, thereby losing none of its power.

"I'm lost," Ashford said. "What do you mean by the right-shaped key?"

"You can cast a 7th Tier protection spell, correct?" Jon asked. Ashford nodded, still looking unsure. "I bet you I can bind you with a 1st Tier Spell of Binding."

Ashford looked over at Evelyn, perhaps wondering if Evelyn also thought he was trying to pull a trick on him. Evelyn, however, tapped her lips in thought. Ashford looked back at Jon. "I think you're crazy," he finally countered.

Jon smirked and waved his hand toward Ashford. "Please, humor me."

Ashford shook his head incredulously but began casting his spell. His eyes glowed silver as he chanted and worked his fingers in the air. After a few moments, a set of glowing silver runes covered his entire body.

"There you go," Ashford said. "Try your best."

Jon focused on the runes covering his body. In moments, he memorized the pattern. "It's a good spell," Jon offered. "But it's also very sloppy in places."

Ashford snorted. "This spell has saved my life more times than I can count."

Jon shook his head. If Ashford had fought a Magi from Jon's time, he would have died from the first spell. Jon opened himself to the flow of magic and devised the precise spell of binding he wanted inside his mind. As promised, he only formed a 1st Tier spell but verbalized and shaped the spell in counter to the pattern of Ashford's shield. He waved his hand and released the spell.

Ashford's eyes bulged as the runes of binding wrapped around his body. His 7th Tier protection spell continued to surround him, untouched. Evelyn gasped beside Jon. Jon released the spell and Ashford stumbled forward.

"How...what...did you do?" he gasped.

"I bound you," Jon said simply. He turned to Evelyn. "It was a 1st Tier spell, was it not?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 10



Evelyn nodded. "It was so simple," she whispered, astounded. "His shield should have easily repelled it. But it just...slipped right through it. I...I have never seen anything like it."

"How?" Ashford repeated again.

Jon shrugged. "I made the right key. I shaped my spell to slip through the pattern of your spell. Remember, a spell can be verbalized and manipulated differently and still achieve the same result, as long as the words are correct. No two Magi cast the same spell? I rarely cast the same spell in the same way. You have to adapt and improvise in any situation," he finished, winking over at Sophina. Sophina beamed back at him. She understood that particular lesson all too well.

"Amazing," Evelyn whispered. "It makes so much sense now. I never thought why spells can be cast differently. I just took it for granted."

"Unbelievable," Ashford said, falling heavily into a chair. He ran his hand over his bald head and stared at Jon in wonder. "Unbelievable."

"I must warn you; this concept will take a lot of time and practice to master. You won't really have a grasp on it for at least several years. Just as the language is subtle and varied, so too are the shapes the spells can be manipulated into. All it takes is one tiny edge of your spell to touch the other person's spell to dissolve it. It has to be shaped perfectly to pass through."

And with that, Jon left Ashford and Evelyn to confer with each other and walked over to Sophina. "Did you understand any of that?" Jon asked her as he sat down.

Sophina nodded. "I don't know anything about magic but what you told them is very similar to the sword training you taught me."

"I know," Jon replied. "I based my sword fighting off of my lessons in magic."

Sophina laughed. "You truly are a genius!"

Jon laughed with her. "If only my instructors could hear you say that! I'm afraid I was never really the academic type. My mind was always focused on combat. I related best to the material when I could translate it to fighting."

"I think combat magic is more useful than academic magic," Sophina agreed. "There is more honor in it."

"I wouldn't necessary say that," Jon countered. "I knew Magi who accomplished great things. And I can't honestly say combat magic is all that occupied me. I actually have quite a talent in engineering, I will have you know. I helped build many magnificent structures."

"Like what?" Sophina asked.

Jon smiled to deflect the question. I need to be careful. I can't give away all my secrets. I can't trust them. Jon hated the thought but knew it was true. It troubled him to think how much he was coming to like Sophina and Ashford. "Oh, you wouldn't know the names if I told you. So, are you ready for tomorrow?"

Sophina grimaced. "How could I be ready? I don't even know what your plans are for me."

Jon stood up. It was time to finally talk about his plans. "Ashford, Evelyn, please sit down over here. It's time to plan for tomorrow."

***

Morgana grunted and dug her nails deeper into Raynolt's back. Raynolt grimaced and picked up his speed.

"Yes, right there!" she grunted by his ear.

Raynolt hooked her leg over his arm and shifted his angle. She gasped in delight as he continued to thrust inside her. Is this the price you pay for Reynar? Did he choose you for this duty because he knew how much of a whore you are? Fury continued to race through his blood. It mixed with his lust and created a strange feeling he had never experienced.

Raynolt had never felt more powerful. The knowledge he now owned filled his body with energy. Morgana had used him for so long. Now, he used her and she didn't even know it. He had wanted to kill her right away when Sanje reported what he saw earlier in the night. If Morgana had been with him at that moment, he would have killed her right then. But he hated making decisions from wild passions. He liked to be cool and in control.

Once he calmed down, he knew there was a better way to proceed with his plans. He went to see Morgana to take back control. She writhed underneath him and moaned with pleasure. She had no idea she was now at his mercy.

The thought sent a shudder down Raynolt's spine. Morgana sensed his increased passion and clung tightly to his back. Raynolt grunted in animal satisfaction as he continued to exert his dominance over her. His blood felt like it was on fire. He almost wanted to thank her for her betrayal; the fire that ran through is body was the most erotic feeling he had ever felt.

He was unaware of his hands sliding up her body as he increased his tempo. Morgana was now grunting continuously next to his ear. Her eyes were fluttering in sheer pleasure. She was totally unaware of his hands making their way to her throat. He stopped at her shoulders and clutched them tightly as he savagely rammed inside of her.

"Raynolt!" she screamed in pleasure.

His hands unclenched and slowly moved toward her neck. It would be so easy. Life was such a fragile thing. He shuddered again in pleasure at the thought. The power over life was the greatest power of all. His hands joined together at her throat. With a vicious grin he clamped down hard.

Morgana's eyes bulged as Raynolt cut off her air. He slowed down his tempo to make long, deep thrusts. His cock wanted to explode when he saw how red her face was turning. 

So easy... He squeezed tighter.

She swatted at his hands. He thrust deeper into her. Her eyes were almost popping out of her head. He thrust harder. She blinked continuously as she strove to fight off unconsciousness. He thrust even harder.

Not yet...not yet. He reluctantly ease his hands on her neck when her lips began to turn blue. She took a deep, wheezing breath and shuddered underneath him. He followed her lead and emptied his seed.

He collapsed on top of her. She continued to suck in air and shake with her orgasm at the same time. Raynolt rolled over to the side of the bed and sat up. He was going to miss her, he suddenly decided.

"What...got...into...you," she gasped as she rubbed her throat. A large purple bruise was already forming around her throat.

He turned to look at her. "I'm just excited about tomorrow," he lied.

"I never felt that kind of orgasm before," she said. Her voice was raspy and barely above a whisper. "But I don't think I would want to try it again."

Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, my dear Morgana. I don't see many more orgasms in your future. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she replied, smiling at him. Her eyes glowed silver. She whispered some words and moved her fingers. She laid her hand on her throat and sighed in relief. When she removed her hand, the bruise was gone. "That's better," she said, her voice back to normal.

"That's a pretty handy skill," Raynolt grudgingly admitted. He would miss her healing skills in the days to come. He would have to find somebody else soon.

"It will be needed tomorrow," she replied. She got off the bed and walked to her wardrobe. Raynolt admired the silky smoothness of her skin. Yes, he would definitely miss her. She took a robe from her wardrobe and belted it around her waist.

Raynolt grabbed his robe from the floor and slipped it over his head. "I don't want you wandering too far from my side to go heal people. I will be the primary target of Jon Laurent."

She smiled sweetly at him and began brushing her long blonde hair. "Don't worry; you're too important to me to risk losing. By the way, how did the meeting go with the council? I'm sorry I missed it."

I'm sure you are. Raynolt grimaced as he pulled on his boots. "They got their way. We will keep one hundred Magi in the Emporium during the war, which includes the council. That should make you and Lenard happy."

She sighed. "You know that was the right thing to do. I'm sorry it costs you some manpower but you're just going to have to make do without us. What would be left of the Magi if we win this war but have only idiots left?"

Raynolt stood up and stomped his feet into his boots. "I still managed to at least get them to attend the ceremony tomorrow. Can you believe the rest of the council wanted to skip it? In any case, I don't need to hear this argument again. So, where were you tonight?"

She finished brushing her hair and tied it back in a loose ponytail. "I told you, I was securing all the supplies for tomorrow. I was assigned that duty, remember? I'm sure the council didn't miss my presence."

"Oh," was all he said. He belted his dagger back on and walked over to her. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her deep. "Sleep well," he told her after breaking the kiss.

For it will be the last sleep you will know in this life.

***

Sanje kept to the wall as he sped along the hallway. The route to Raynolt's office was second nature to him now. Raynolt had secretly removed the Runes of Warning in his office's hallway when they first made their deal. The runes were always maintained by select Magi, who patrolled the hallways during all hours of the day. Not even Jon Laurent could sneak through here if he didn't have help.

Sanje wasn't sure what Raynolt would do when he finally moved to the Grand Master's office. However, for right now, the office was still being repaired from the damage caused by Raynolt's fight with Boltus. It was a worry for a later day.

He reached Raynolt's office door and stopped. The door was covered in intricate runes. Jon Laurent claimed to be able to read any set of runes, but Sanje doubted that very much. He removed his Shadow Dagger and placed the tip against the door. The runes on his blade glowed a brilliant silver all the way to the tip and then darkened. So, he has a 10th Tier Magi hidden nearby. Sanje couldn't bypass a 10th Tier spell. His dagger only had power to the 9th Tier.

Raynolt had obviously grown tired of Sanje surprising him in his office. Smirking, he tapped on lightly on the door. "Come in," came the call. The runes on the door suddenly disappeared.

He entered the room quickly and shut the door behind him. Raynolt was sitting at his desk. He looked up when Sanje entered and put down the paper he was holding. "It looks like I finally managed to beat you to my own office," he observed wryly.

"The God favors everyone from time to time," Sanje replied. "So who do you have guarding your door?"

Raynolt waved the question away. "One of my own 10th Tier Magi; it doesn't matter. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Raynolt gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.

Sanje took the seat. "My men are prepared. What about you?"

"The plans are finalized," Raynolt said, sighing. He rubbed his eyes. "It's barely a few hours from sunrise and I still haven't been able to find my bed. Reynar obviously doesn't want my wits sharp today."

"How will your men be positioned?" Sanje dared to ask.

Raynolt gave him a hard look. "How will your men be positioned?" he countered.

Sanje shrugged his shoulders. It was worth a try. "I guess we will both find out tomorrow."

Raynolt shook his head ruefully. "Sometimes I marvel at our audacity to so casually plot the deaths of our men."

Sanje shifted uncomfortably. It has to be done. I hope my men understand that. Ever since he hatched his plan, he had been trying to convince himself that it was the right thing to do. He still hadn't convinced himself.

"There is a difference between us, Raynolt. My men know full well what they are getting themselves into. You are leading your men blindly into slaughter."

Sanje returned Raynolt's angry snarl with a look of contempt. Finally, Raynolt looked away. "I'm still just in my cause, no matter what history will show. The Magi need to change. I will bring it to them, whether they like it or not."

Sanje let the point go. He knew Raynolt lusted more for power than for any altruistic need to change the Magi for the better. Sanje did what he had to do so the Magi Victus could finally know peace.

"What about Morgana? Have you acted on the information I gave you?" he asked, changing the subject.

Raynolt's angry snarl receded from his face. He even smiled a little. "Yes I have, in a manner of speaking. If you're asking if she is still alive, then yes she is. But I have my plans for her during the Festival. Our spy problem will be remedied very shortly."

"Good," Sanje replied. "We need to take out Reynar already. Have you developed any plans there yet?"

"No," Raynolt admitted. "For right now, we have to forget about Reynar and focus on the war. The opportunity will eventually present itself."

Sanje was surprised by Raynolt's laid back attitude. He was usually much more aggressive. King Reynar must be very powerful to have cowed Raynolt. It was a wrinkle in the plan that Sanje hadn't accounted for. "Have you heard any news about Ashford Caulston?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. There was a guard who disappeared while on duty in Beggar's Hell. We have no idea if he was killed by Jon Laurent, thieves, or if he simply ran off. Beggar's Hell is too big to go searching every house and abandoned building."

Sanje frowned. "Jon Laurent has a history with Beggar's Hell. I've received reports that he would frequently give beggars the money he made from his assassinations. If he's hiding in Beggar's Hell, then he is well protected."

"It doesn't matter," Raynolt replied. "We both know he will show up at the Festival to assassinate me. I'm willing to bet Ashford Caulston will be there, as well."

"If we manage to kill Ashford tomorrow, that will leave Reynar with only his shield left, correct?"

Raynolt nodded. "It would take a great deal of Magi and Magi Victus to get through his shield. We could expect a lot of causalities if we try that."

"It has to be done," Sanje replied firmly. "Our plan is pointless if we can't eliminate Reynar."

Raynolt sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I know. But for right now, I'm not planning on fighting him tomorrow. We have no idea if Ashford will show up. I do, however, have a plan in place for Jon Laurent."

Sanje leaned forward in his chair. "Are you still planning to capture him alive?"

Raynolt clasped his fingers and studied Sanje for several moments. Finally, he said slowly, "Capturing Laurent is Reynar's plan. However, if in the heat of battle someone went too far..."

Sanje sat back and smiled. "What's the plan?"

***

Ashford threw back his blankets and got up from the floor. He finally decided he might as well get ready. He didn't know what time it was but it still had to be early. He was too nervous to get more than a few, broken hours of sleep.

"Ashford?" Sophina asked.

Ashford nearly jumped out of his skin. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he took a few deep breaths. He forgot that Sophina was sleeping on the floor. Evelyn took the spare room for herself. He saw a look of disappointment on Sophina's face when Evelyn informed her of that. She must have really gotten use to taking care of her.

"Yeah?" Ashford replied, once his heart slowed down.

"Can't sleep either?" she asked. He saw a shadow sit up by the flickering flames in the fireplace.

He walked over to her and sat down on the floor. "Nope."

"Are you nervous?"

Ashford chuckled. "I always get nervous before a battle."

Sophina settled her blanket over her legs. The fire cast half of her features in shadow. Ashford felt his cock twitch. This isn't the time to go thinking about that! Damn me, though, she's beautiful...

"So do I," she admitted.

"What do you think of Jon's plan? Do you really think we won't see any fighting?"

Sophina glanced at the flames. He knew she greatly respected Jon as a teacher but felt conflicted about his plans. "He makes it sound so...simple. I agree that the crowd will panic once the fighting breaks out, but...I don't think we can just slip away so easily after Raynolt's dead."

"Yeah, me neither," Ashford agreed. "Actually, I'm kind of looking forward to testing some of the spells he taught me."

Sophina laughed softly. "I know how you feel! I can't wait to test my ability against the guards. Have I really improved so much in the past month?"

"I'm sure you have. Jon is a very good teacher." He reached over and patted her shoulder. He was shocked to feel skin underneath his hand. Her shoulder was so warm and smooth. He jerked his hand back and covered the bulge in his breeches as stealthily as possible.

"Sorry," she apologized as she brought her loose gown back up over her shoulder. "And thanks for the compliment. I'm sure you have improved just as much."

"Thanks," he replied, glad for the darkness that hid his blush. He was never very good conversing with beautiful women.

"Are you two up already?" a voice asked suddenly. Ashford and Sophina both jerked in surprise.

"You snuck up on us on purpose!" Sophina accused Jon.

"Sorry," Jon said, striding into the room. Mage-light suddenly filled the room with its brilliance. Ashford blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted. Jon was smiling down at them. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Very funny!" Sophina yelled and tossed her pillow at him. 

He caught it with one hand and put it on a chair. He sat down on it and sighed in pleasure. "Thanks," he said, winking.

Ashford and Sophina both laughed. Just like that, he had put them at ease. Ashford felt his nervousness fade. "No, thank you," he told him sincerely.

Jon nodded at him. "Don't worry; I still get nervous before fights. But once battle starts, I feel nothing but the thrill of it. I just react on instinct. Everything else sort of fades away around me."

"I'm sort of the opposite," Ashford laughed. "I'm always looking around to see if the fight is finally over."

Ashford laughed good-naturedly with Jon and Sophina. The one thing he missed about war was this camaraderie. There was a special connection among people who took the pleasure of a laugh because they knew it could be their last one come sunrise.

"So, do you know what time it is?" Sophina asked.

"Believe it or not, it's almost sunrise," Jon informed her.

"Should we wake Evelyn?"

Jon shook his head. "She's in a deep sleep. Let's give her a little while longer. Maybe she dreams of Daminus and knows peace for a while."

Sophina looked away, her mood suddenly somber. Ashford didn't like that Jon kept reminding her of Evelyn's grief. "Do you think she will ever be whole again?" Sophina asked at last. 

No, Ashford thought truthfully. But Jon was more tactful. "In time, I think, she can find a balance in her life. The grief will never fully leave her so she must find something to balance it."

"Like what?" Ashford asked. It sounded like Jon was hinting at something.

Jon looked away. "Nothing."

Ashford could hear the lie on his lips. Still, he was beginning to trust Jon against his better judgment. If Jon knew something about Evelyn and didn't share, then he must have a good reason. Ashford was willing to be patient. He prayed he wasn't making a huge mistake.

It wasn't long before Evelyn woke herself up. She walked into the room fully dressed for the day ahead. She was wearing the long, dark-blue silk skirt and blouse that Jon had bought her. Evelyn was impersonating a wealthy merchant, as that would allow her more freedom of movement. The wealthy would have closer seats during the ceremony.

Ashford himself was impersonating an average citizen and wore a rough brown tunic and breeches. Sophina wore the same thing, except hers was cut for a woman. She wore the new sword Jon had given her. She would accompany Evelyn and act as her bodyguard.

Ashford looked over at Jon. It was strange to see him out of his customary black clothes and hood. He wore the ragged clothing of a beggar. His Shadow Dagger was sheathed and tied to his back, behind the faded blue tunic he wore but in easy reach.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 10



The strangest thing about Jon's disguise was the lack of a dark hood pulled low over his face. For the first time, Ashford had a chance to really see the man. His wavy chestnut-brown hair was cut at the base of his neck. Some splashes of white covered his goatee. Cold-blue eyes saw and processed everything. And most surprisingly of all, only a few lines of age spread out from his eyes. He appeared to be a handsome, middle-aged man.

"What?" Jon asked.

Ashford turned his head in embarrassment. He realized he must have been staring at him for quite some time. "Its...just that I haven't really seen your face that much. I'm pretty sure not many people have. I sort of feel honored."

Jon shook his head in amusement. But Sophina nodded her head at Ashford's words and even Evelyn had a slight smile on her face. "Don't you all have something better to do than stare at me?" he asked in mock irritation.

"It's a shame you have to cover your face so much," Sophina said, somewhat absently. Her eyes widened when the words registered in her head. She blushed furiously and busied herself by fiddling with the sword on her hip.

Ashford was shocked to see a faint bloom of red on Jon's sun-darkened cheeks. But when he spoke, he hid his embarrassment well. "I've learned that the ceremony for Raynolt will take place at mid-day. So, how about we spend some time in the market getting use to moving unseen?"

Sophina quickly agreed, perhaps eager to distract herself from her embarrassment. Ashford felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach as he nodded his head. Evelyn said nothing but she looked ready to leave.

"Good," Jon replied. "I have arranged for a carriage to carry us to the Market Quarter. Remember the plan and keep your head down. Let's go."

***

Sanje closed the door silently behind him. Hundreds of faces looked up at his entrance. He nodded greetings to several people as he made his way through the room. Everyone wore nondescript clothing. It felt odd to look at his brethren and not see the usual black clothing. A small stand had been hastily erected at the end of the long room. Sanje jumped on top and turned to face his audience.

"Welcome, my brothers," he greeted them, bowing his head. Several hundred pairs of heads bowed in return. "According to what records we have, the entire Guild of the Magi Victus has not gathered together since the signing of the original treaty with the Magi. This is a very historic day for us."

Nobody spoke. A thousand pair of eyes stared steadily back at him. "Several hours from now, we will break that treaty. The Magi will say that we were responsible for the breaking of it. But I say there was no treaty to break! We broke only a slave contract!"

Dozens of people cheered and pumped their fists in the air. Pride filled Sanje's heart at the sight. "The Magi have enslaved us our entire lives! And what was the treaty? In return for limiting their numbers, they agreed not to kill us all? That is not a fair treaty, my brothers! That is a knife held against our throats!"

This time more people cheered. Sanje had never felt more passionate in his whole life. "For over two thousand years the Magi have poisoned the public against us! They have spread lies about how we are abominations to the God! But I say they are the abominations! They are the ones who murder innocent children! And why? Why do they fear us?"

The crowd was silent. Sanje leaned in, as if to whisper intimately to each of them. "Because we are free men," he said sadly. "They can't govern us and they can't stop us. They fear to lose grip on their power. The people revere them because they believe the Magi are the instruments of the God's will. The Magi have enslaved them as surely as they have enslaved us."

Faces stared solemnly back at him. "The people have no idea what it means to be free. The Magi have hunted us all our lives. And we've had to make...unbearable sacrifices," he said, nearly choking on the words. His hand strayed to the Shadow Dagger on his side. Several of the Magi Victus looked away at the words. He even some saw with tears falling silently down their cheeks.

"And yet, we have been free. We have tasted life without the Magi governing our every action. But that freedom is a fleeting thing, my brothers. How can we taste it when we must hide in the shadows? How many of us have dared to show our faces in public? How many of us have stood in a busy market and lifted our face to feel the sun's kiss?"

He stepped down from the box and gripped each man on the shoulder that he passed. The crowd parted before him and formed a circle. He stood in the middle of the floor, alone. He had been alone all his life. It was time for that to end.

"I know we're all very tired of always having to run and hide. But now we have a chance to change that. With your blessing, I have struck a deal with the Magi. I struck a deal with the devil. The purpose of this deal is for the Magi Raynolt Teryus to gain the throne so he can grant us our freedom. It's a bad deal, I know. But it's the best option we have ever had."

Doubt flickered across several of the faces surrounding him. But even more faces firmed and nodded back at him. "I made no concessions to this war. The only thing decided is the outcome. Raynolt Teryus is very aware of the fact that we will hold nothing back. We will fight and kill them as fiercely as we can. In fact, I'm fighting to win this war and you should, too."

The crowd roared their approval. Everyone was itching to spill some Magi blood. "I know it's foolish to believe that Raynolt will keep his end of the bargain. But neither can we completely wipe out the Magi. Only the Magi can reverse generations of public sentiment. The public believe the Magi to be the extension of the God's will. With their help, we can walk proudly in public one day."

"But," Sanje continued, wagging his finger and smiling fiercely, "Raynolt also understands the consequences of betrayal. There is a secret that is passed down in the records of the Master Victus. This secret is so deadly that it will topple the Magi from power forever. Raynolt has no choice but to keep his end of the bargain."

Several people laughed as if Sanje had made a grand joke. Only the Master Victus knew the secret, for reasons obvious to people if they ever found out. The secret had nearly destroyed Sanje. He tried not to think about it ever since the day he took up the mantle of Master Victus.

Sanje raised his hands for silence. "There is one more matter to remind you about. If you see Jon Laurent anywhere, alert me immediately. Remember our plan and move in quickly once I give the signal."

Some people murmured to each other. Nobody liked Jon Laurent but they still felt guilty about betraying one of their own. Because of that, Sanje had to hand-pick the men who would accompany him. It would have to do for now; anything to see Jon Laurent dead.

"The time for speeches has ended. Make the Magi Victus proud today. Move out."

***

"It's time," Lenard said as he walked in the door.

Raynolt nodded but didn't turn around. He nervously smoothed his robe as he examined himself in the mirror. His robe was pure white with gold thread around the cuffs and hem. He smoothed back the long brown hair from his face. Despite his 150 years of life, his face was still smooth and almost boyish. His nose was a little longer than he liked but he thought his light-brown eyes made up for it.

"Raynolt?" Lenard repeated, still waiting patiently by the door.

With one last look in the mirror, Raynolt grabbed the white cloak from the chair and slung around his shoulders. "Let's go," he told Lenard, clasping the cloak as he walked from his office.

"While we are alone, will you tell me now about your plans to assassinate Reynar?" Lenard asked as they made their way down the hallway.

Raynolt glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Can I trust him now? He ignored Lenard's question as he pondered his dilemma. "I've decided to abandon it for now," Raynolt finally replied, settling on a half-truth.

"Why? What was the plan?"

"It no longer matters," Raynolt snapped. Really, I've let him get away with too much since I started searching for the spy. It's time I correct that. "If you were wise, Lenard, you wouldn't continue to question me. Remember your place!"

Lenard jerked as if Raynolt had physically struck him. "Sorry, Grand Master," he replied apologetically. He slowed down until he was a step behind Raynolt.

Smirking, Raynolt put him out of his mind. Despite the imminent threat of war, he was actually looking forward to his ceremony. It was the first chance for the public to witness his rise to power. He fervently hoped Sanje would hold back his attack until after the ceremony. He should have stressed that point more during their meetings.

They exited the Emporium and walked into bright sunshine. Raynolt smiled as he saw that there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was going a perfect day. He rubbed his hands in excitement.

A crowd of Magi loitered in the courtyard. There was a flurry of activity as servants ran to and from, getting everything ready for the Magi's trip into the city. Every Magi was wearing their best robes. Most of them turned when Raynolt strode by. They bowed their heads respectfully. Raynolt nodded back at them and continued on his way toward the main gate. 

Morgana met him at the gates with his horse and a squad of fifty mounted guardsmen. 

"Grand Master," she greeted him, obediently bowing her head.

"Master Rosewood," he graciously returned the greeting. 

"All is ready, Grand Master," she said. "The Magi will be ready to ride in a few minutes."

Raynolt waved lazily and took the opportunity to study the activity behind him. Servants were now fetching horses for their Magi masters. Raynolt smirked as several were helped up into the saddle. Doubtless they knew very little about riding horses. Every Magi was given instruction as children; but unless they had reason to continue riding horses, they soon forgot even the simplest instructions.

He patted his pure white stallion on the nose before climbing in the saddle in one easy movement. He smiled in pleasure as he realized his horse was bigger than anyone else's. His higher seat gave him a feeling of greater power. He saw Morgana wink at him as she turned her horse.

Not for the first time, Raynolt lamented the fact that she was the spy. She really was a good companion to have. Shrugging slightly to himself, he kicked his horse into motion. The guards fell into formation around him and Lenard. Morgana led the way from the front. The crowd of Magi fell in behind his party.

As they rode down the street into the city, people stopped and stared in wonder. Most of them already wore the Festival masks, though it wouldn't be until night before the wild revelry began. The common folk loved celebrating the symbolic day when the God called the Order of 12 to the Fields of Summer. It was also the day to honor the war against the warlords, but most people just used it as an excuse to toast something with their mugs of ale. 

The crowd grew thicker as they enter the city proper. The path from the Emporium led to the Merchant Quarter of the city. The guards shouted for people to clear the way. Merchants and customers alike stopped their haggling and stared in awe as the party of Magi rode by. It was very rare to see so many Magi gathered together. An excited buzz of voices followed them as they made their way to the Royal Quarter. 

Lenard leaned over his horse and nearly had to shout for Raynolt to hear him. "Are you sure the Magi Victus aren't going to attack now, while we are riding single file like lambs to the slaughter?"

Raynolt glanced around him and was reasonably sure nobody in the crowded market place had heard him. Still, he directed an angry snarl at Lenard. "Could you say that any louder? Do you want to start a riot now?"

Lenard bowed his head in apology. Raynolt thought he saw a grimace of anger pass over his face. When did I start to lose his loyalty? The man has not acted very subservient lately. Raynolt thought he knew why. "Do you still want to know my plans for Reynar?"

Lenard perked up. He glanced at the people nearby and nodded his head briefly. Raynolt was glad to see he was starting to remember his caution. "I believe Ashford Caulston may be lured here today." There, let him figure that out for himself.

Lenard's eyes widened in understanding. If Ashford could be located and killed today, Reynar would be that much more vulnerable. Of course, Lenard didn't know that Raynolt wasn't really planning on that happening today. He just wanted Lenard's mind occupied for a time.

The bustling bazaar of the Merchant Quarter gradually gave way to the elegant and graceful buildings of the Royal Quarter. Here was where the city's most important citizens called home. Most importantly, this is where the King of Astuari called home. The silver and gold walls of the palace would sparkle brightly in the day's sun. Raynolt eagerly awaited the day when he could call the palace home.

The Royal Quarter was a stark contrast to the overwhelming activity of the Merchant Quarter. Instead of merchants haggling at the top of their lungs, the Royal Quarter boasted elegant storefronts with respectful businessmen. People here did not run about making deals as fast as possible. They walked serenely through the many gardens and over the beautifully cobbled streets. It was quiet and peaceful.

As Raynolt's party passed loudly through the main avenues, people stepped politely out of the way and bowed deeply in respect. Nobody ogled them or shouted loud cheers. There was only a quiet respect and a sincere reverence. Raynolt nodded grandly at the nobles as he rode by. This is where he belonged, among a cultured and elegant people.

The crowd in the Royal Quarter thickened as Raynolt neared his destination. In the center of the Quarter, not far from the gates of the palace, were twelve magnificent statutes of solid gold. The statutes ringed an immense floor of white marble. White marble benches radiated from the center, surrounding a beautiful podium of marble veined with gold. The circumference of the Courtyard of the Twelve had to be a half-mile at least. Thousands of people could sit on the benches and thousands more could find standing room. 

This is where Raynolt would experience his greatest achievement. The guards in front of him dismounted from their horses. Dozens of servants ran out from the nearby stables, which were built specifically to handle a great number of horses. Raynolt dismounted from his horse and handed over the reins to a bright-eyed young boy. He smiled warmly at him and handed him a silver coin. It was a going to be a good day.

***

"This is where we part," Jon told them, as they stood in the shadow of a deserted alley in the Market Quarter. Most of the people in the market had begun their exodus to the Royal Quarter in the vain hopes of securing a coveted seat to watch the ceremony. 

They nodded back at him. Jon gave them one last firm look before hunching his shoulders and stepping out of the alley and into the flow of people headed to the Royal Quarter. He was jostled aside until he walked along the edge of the crowd. Beggars in this part of the city were hardly spared a glance. Indeed, beggars had been known to die when carriages failed to stop for them.

Jon kept his shoulders hunched and kept his pace slow. He doubted anybody would recognize him but he didn't like to take chances. He just hoped nobody recognized the other three before they could execute his plan. He shook his in wonder when he realized he was more concerned for their safety than the success of his plan.

I must be getting soft, he thought wryly. He couldn't remember the last time he let himself care for anybody. Three thousand years was a long time to live without going mad from grief if he allowed himself to care about people who would die long before he did. It was just another small sacrifice that had been demanded of him.

But we're coming to the end. I don't have to hold out for much longer. Maybe the God will see fit to grant me the peace I have longed for. He doubted it. He forced the thought from his head and focused on where he was. He had long ago abandon his hope for peace.

He walked along the main avenue for another mile before the merchant warehouses gave way to lavish homes and large storefronts. He hung back from the flow of the crowd as he made his way to a nearby alley.

A few people were lounging in the alley but gave way when Jon came shuffling up. One of the men spat at his feet and growled, "Filthy beggars shouldn't be allowed here."

Jon's hand twitched but he wisely reined his temper in. The man was well dressed and had probably never tasted desperation in his life. Jon let his anger fade and made his way further into the alley. He glanced back and made sure the men were still turned the other way. When he was sure nobody was watching, he manipulated his magic and jumped straight up.

His feet kicked off the wall ten feet in the air and propelled him across the alley to the other wall. He kicked off that wall and landed on the roof opposite. He crouched low and sprinted across the roof. He knelt at the edge and looked out over the city. He could see the Courtyard of the Twelve about half a mile away.

There were few buildings near the Courtyard close enough for a conventional assassination. But Jon Laurent was anything but conventional. He spotted what looked to be a tavern close to the last row of benches in the Courtyard. He jumped over to a nearby roof and made his way to the building that would give him the view he wanted.

***

"This is where we part," Jon told them, as they stood in the shadow of a deserted alley in the Market Quarter.

Sophina nodded eagerly. She gripped her sword tight and tried her best to suppress her excitement. She itched to test her new skills against anyone that stood in their way. She silently wished Jon luck as he slipped out of the alley. It was a shame he had to dress like a beggar. A handsome man like that deserved better.

Ashford looked at her nervously so she gave him her best reassuring smile. "Do you think it's going to work?" he asked her.

Evelyn sighed. Sophina suppressed her own irritation and apologized on behalf of Evelyn. "Yeah, it's going to be fine. Just try to have some faith in the plan."

Ashford looked doubtful but Sophina had done the best she could for him. It was time to focus on her part of the plan. Jon had told Sophina to guard Evelyn with her life. She meant to keep that promise.

"It's time," Evelyn said suddenly. It was the first time she had spoken since they left Jon's house. 

Sophina pushed that worry aside for a later time. She gave Ashford one last reassuring nod before stepping out of the alley with Evelyn. The thin stream of people immediately gave way to Evelyn when they took in her expensive clothing and the bodyguard by her side. 

Sophina saw quite a few people stare after Evelyn with searching eyes. Thieves, Sophina growled to herself. Her hand on her sword and the cold look on her face deterred the would-be thieves. They slunk away quickly whenever her gaze swept over them.

"Thank you," Evelyn said quietly.

Sophina started. "I guess you aren't as out of it as I thought."

Evelyn glanced sideways at her as they continue to walk down the main avenue. "I'm...sorry for how I have been behaving. I've been having a hard time concentrating. I had no idea how debilitating my grief would be..."

Sophina reached her hand out and then thought better of it. She had to maintain the proper appearance. "I can't possibly imagine what it's like for you. We all grew up hearing the horror stories of people who had lost their soul-mate."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 10



"I heard them too, when I was a child," Evelyn admitted. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "When I bonded with Daminus, I thought nothing of those stories. Nobody had a clue how beautiful and how wonderful that bond was. But now I know better..."

"Do you regret it?" Sophina asked delicately.

"Never!" Evelyn replied quickly. She took a deep breath. "Never," she repeated softly. "It's still the most amazing experience in the entire world. I can't even describe it to you. No, I would never trade that experience for anything."

"Do you think killing Raynolt will give you peace?" Sophina fervently prayed it did. She couldn't imagine Evelyn suffering anymore.

"I don't know...I can't even think past that. My focus is solely on this plan. I...I'm afraid to think about afterwards."

"We will take it slowly. I will be here for you, ok?" Sophina longed to take this woman in her arms and protect her from everything.

"Thank you," Evelyn replied. She stopped in the road and smiled tremulously at Sophina. A fat tear fell from her eye and streaked down her cheek.

Sophina couldn't help it; she reached up and gently wiped it away with her thumb. Evelyn's face softened at the gentle touch. She closed her eyes and leaned her face against Sophina's palm.

Sophina could feel her heart thumping in her boots. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She prayed to the God to freeze her in this moment forever. But it was only a brief moment in time. Evelyn opened her eyes and nodded her head in thanks. She continued walking.

Sophina rubbed her palm and thought she could still feel the warmth of Evelyn's face on it. Against her wishes, she felt her heart open and she began to hope again

Maybe...maybe there is a chance. Can she really survive Daminus' death? Would she even be interested in a woman?

She shook her head. It was foolish to have these thoughts right before her very important mission. Still, her mind recalled the night when Evelyn had begged Sophina to pleasure her. She blushed as she looked over at Evelyn. Did she remember that? Or was her mind already gone by then?

"We're getting close," Evelyn said. 

Sophina jumped and then cursed herself. She needed to focus. She hadn't even notice that the crowd had begun to slow down. She could barely see the statutes of the Order of Twelve over the head of the crowd. Those statutes always amazed her. How did somebody build twelve huge statutes out of solid gold? And how many guards must patrol the area to keep people from trying to break off pieces to sell?

"This way," Evelyn said, nodding at a nearby guard standing at attention by a closed storefront.

Sophina lowered her gaze in the off-chance that the guard might recognize her. Evelyn strode confidently over to him. The guard glanced at her clothing and then bowed his head. "My lady, can I help you?"

"I need a seat for two on the benches," she told him commandingly.

Sophina was impressed by the arrogance in her voice. She really knew how to act like she had power. Belatedly, Sophina realized that Evelyn did have power. She was a Magi, after all, and was well accustomed to the behavior of the upper-class.

The guards shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Evelyn stuck out her hand. Several thick gold coins that Jon had given her sparkled in the early afternoon sun. "Oh, I'm sure you could find something," she told him, smiling sweetly.

The guard's eyes nearly fell from their sockets. He swallowed and said, "Yes...Yes I believe I can find you something."

He quickly snatched the coins from her hand and opened the doors of the store. "Follow me."

Evelyn smiled briefly at Sophina before returning the cool composure to her face. Sophina gripped her sword tight and followed Evelyn inside. Inside turned out to be a richly decorated tavern. Several well dressed people sat by the tables and drank wine or smoked pipes. There was a loud buzz of excited voices.

"Looks like you were just in time," the guard said, as the backdoor to the tavern opened. 

A guard stepped inside and waited for the room to quiet. "Please line up in an orderly fashion. A servant will direct you to your benches."

Sophina escorted Evelyn to the line that was forming by the door. Most of the people here had bodyguards with them, too. One burly man with scars on his face looked at Sophina's sword before giving her a respectful nod of his head. Sophina beamed with pleasure and returned the nod.

"Is that sword what I think it is?" Evelyn whispered to her as they stood in line.

"What do you mean?"

Evelyn stared at the sword in wonder. "I...I can feel some power coming from it. It's a Magi sword, isn't it?"

Sophina paled. "You...you can feel it? Evelyn, we're about to be surrounded by Magi! It's going to give me away!"

Evelyn grabbed Sophina's forearm. "Be calm, Sophina! It's me, ok? Ever since I woke up, I've been feeling differently. I've never heard of a Magi who could feel the power coming from a weapon forged by our blacksmiths. I have seen them before. I have even held one. I never felt anything like I do now."

Sophina let out a deep breath and felt her shoulders relax. "Don't scare me like that."

"Why can I feel it?" Evelyn asked nervously.

Sophina shrugged. "Jon said you were special. He talked about your soul-bond and how a certain gift is exchanged, like how you could protect Daminus during battle. I think he knows something."

Evelyn stared at Sophina. Her eyes were wide with shock. "My soul-bond? Of course--"

"Mask?" a woman asked, interrupting what Evelyn was about to say.

"What?" Evelyn asked, confused.

The woman held a large wooden tray out in front of her. "Would you like a mask in honor of the Summer Festival?"

Sophina suddenly realized that most of the people in line were wearing them. Sophina smiled widely. "My mistress would love one, as would I."

The woman smiled and handed Sophina two ceramic masks. She handed one to Evelyn. "What a nice surprise," she whispered, winking.

Evelyn shook her head and smiled distractedly. "Yes, it will help our disguise."

Sophina frowned. What was Evelyn about to say before they were interrupted? Shaking her head, Sophina glanced at the mask in her hands. It was supposed to be the face of Corana of the Order of Twelve. She was the mother of the two feuding warlords. Evelyn's mask was Tria, the whore. Sophina smirked at that and tied the mask over her face. The eyes and mouth were open.

The line began to move as people were escorted out. It was several more minutes before Sophina walked into the bright sunshine. She shields her eyes with her hand and looked around. A mass of people surrounded the benches, all the way down the roads and avenues. There wasn't one inch left to stand in the Courtyard.

A servant led her and Evelyn to a bench in the middle of the Courtyard. They had a perfect view of the podium. Sophina leaned close and whispered, "Is this a good spot?"

Evelyn nodded her head slightly. "Yes," she whispered.

Sophina sat back and tried to find her calm. She felt guilty for wishing the plan didn't go as smooth as Jon hoped. She really wanted to fight at least one guard. Jon told her that battle was in her blood. She couldn't disagree.

Before long all the benches were occupied. It was several minutes after that when the gates of the palace opened. The palace was located just a quarter of a mile past the Courtyard. A wide space had been kept clear of people so that the Magi could march in.

Raynolt led the procession and was surrounded by guardsmen. The people got their first glimpse of the new Grand Master and cheered wildly. Raynolt's grin stretched from ear to ear. He was a handsome man; Sophina had to give him that. His white and gold robes looked elegant and powerful at the same time.

He waved to the crowd as the rest of the Magi trailed behind him. He ascended the podium steps and stood in the center, basking in the warm glow of the crowd's adulation.

Soon King Reynar would arrive and then it would be time. Sophina smiled eagerly.

***

"This is where we part," Jon told them, as they stood in the shadow of a deserted alley in the Market Quarter.

Ashford nodded his head. The butterflies were flapping fiercely inside his stomach as Jon hunched his shoulders and walked out into the flow of foot traffic. Ashford glanced at Sophina nervously. She smiled reassuringly at him.

"Do you think it's going to work?" he asked her, perhaps for the hundredth time since they left Jon's house.

Evelyn sighed and looked toward the flow people walking past the alley. Sophina gave Ashford an apologetic look. "Yeah, it's going to be fine. Just try to have some faith in the plan."

He knew he was probably getting on their nerves but he was always this nervous before battle. The problem was, he couldn't bring himself to have as much faith in Jon as Sophina did. He had a feeling that assassinating Raynolt would not be as easy as Jon made it sound.

"It's time," Evelyn said. She turned and motioned to Sophina with her head. Sophina gave Ashford one last nod before joining Evelyn as they stepped out of the alley.

Ashford only had to wait a few more minutes before he could be seen leaving the alley. He doubted there were many people left in the Merchant Quarter anyway. But Jon kept stressing the importance of taking it safe.

As he suspected, very few people were still lingering in the Merchant Quarter when he stepped out of the alley. Most of the merchant stands were put away. Only a few people were haggling. He turned down the main avenue and joined the last stream of people as they made their way to the Royal Quarter.

It quickly became apparent that making it to the Courtyard would not be easy. The crowd of people was already clogging the main avenue half a mile away from the Courtyard. Ashford left a few angry shouts behind as he elbowed his way through the crowd. He only had to make it to the fringe of the Courtyard in order to have the view he needed.

I don't know why Jon wants me to back him up in this. His magic is still way more powerful than mine. Still, one did not argue with Jon Laurent. He turned sideways to get through the next row of people. One man angrily shoved him in the back as he bumped him out of the way.

The force of the push knocked Ashford into the backs of several people. A woman screamed as she tumbled to the ground, her skirt flying up over her head. Several people laughed and whistled lewdly. The woman's husband picked Ashford angrily off the ground and shoved him into several more people. A man turned and snarled as he threw a punch.

Ashford barely had time to duck. The man's fist connected loudly with the face of a woman behind Ashford. Ashford grimaced guiltily as the woman fell to her knees, trying to stem the gush of blood from her nose. A man, possibly her husband, yelled and punched the man in the face. Ashford scrambled further into the press of bodies ahead of him as a riot broke out behind him.

He made his way more easily as the crowd turned and ran back to watch the riot. He saw dozens of guards push their way through the crowd to quell the riot. Ashford slipped past the guards and found himself at the edge of the courtyard.

He squeezed between several more people before he found the spot he wanted. He leaned back against the wall behind him and let out a shaky breath. His part in the plan had almost been ruined before it had even started. He looked up and gathered himself as he saw Raynolt ascend the podium.

It was almost time.

***

Jon crouched low by the chimney on the tavern rooftop. It would be hard to spot him from below as the chimney continued to puff out smoke. He snapped his attention back down below as the crowd erupted in cheers.

King Reynar strode down the road from the palace, his personal guard setting a tight perimeter around him. It was the first time in a long time since Jon had seen him. A wide smile stretched Reynar's lips as he waved at the crowd. His dark skin was still wrinkle-free and he walked with a healthy vigor.

Jon frowned when his gaze caught on Reynar's clothing. That clothing...it can't be... Jon squinted harder as he tried to make out the distant figure walking down the path. His clothes looked like silk but moved like...

It is! There was no mistaking it; King Reynar wore clothing made from a material from another time. The Magi who knew how to craft that material was long dead. Where did he get it? Did he discover some sort of hidden cache somewhere?

Jon put it from his mind; he would return to it when he had time. He scanned the assembly of Magi and did a quick calculation in his head. It appeared only half of the Magi were in attendance. Jon knew the other half were probably in the crowd, dressed as commoners. No doubt the Magi Victus were, too. The Magi council were arranged in a semi-circle behind the podium. Raynolt stood in front of them.

The King strode up the podium steps and stood next to Raynolt. Jon wasn't close enough to read facial expressions but he could make out bodily movements. Unless his eyes were mistaken, Raynolt had shrunk slightly back from Reynar, as though he was nervous of standing so close to him. Something didn't feel right.

Reynar moved with a confidence and ease that bespoke power. If Raynolt truly held Reynar under his power, then Reynar was a marvelous actor. But why would Raynolt not have power over him? Reynar must know that Raynolt was the one who had his best friends killed.

Jon continued to analyze these new developments as Reynar began to speak. Jon was too far away and the crowd was too loud for him to hear what was being said. Reynar frequently gestured toward Raynolt, which would elicit a cheer from the crowd. Reynar would wait until the crowd quieted before continuing.

Jon crouched closer to the chimney and opened himself to his magic. Silver filled his eyes. He manipulated the magic and enhanced his eyesight. The scene taking place on the podium appeared closer. He could now make out the shield that protected Reynar. It was tightly woven; to untrained eyes it would appear to be only one shield. But Jon easily saw the two separate shields that were woven together.

Ashford's shield was the first layer. Underneath that was the King's shield. The King's was much more powerful but still nothing compared to the shields from Jon's time. Jon could easily bypass both shields. If he were unable to eliminate Raynolt today, he would need the find the opportunity for Ashford to readjust his shield based on Jon's instructions.

It seemed that Reynar had finished his speech; the crowd roared as he stepped back and Raynolt stepped forward. Raynolt began gesturing and talking rapidly. He would pause periodically to let the crowd cheer. Jon tensed and began preparing his spell as Raynolt continued to talk.

Jon was at least a quarter of a mile away but distance mattered little when it came to magic. A Magi only need a line-of-sight on his target; anything a Magi could see he could hit with a spell. The Magi of the current time made poor assassins because they could only shoot a spell from their location. They had little understanding of the mathematical aspects of magic.

Jon quickly figured the precise calculations in his head, factoring in the angle from his rooftop and the distance of the target. He would have no need to shoot a fireball all the way from the roof; he could explode Raynolt right where he stood.

Perhaps I'm too hard on today's Magi. Not many Magi in my time quite understood the concept of mathematical magic, either. It was much easier for most Magi to shoot a spell than figure out the precise calculations. If Jon was one foot off in his calculations, he would miss Raynolt completely.

Raynolt raised his arms and the crowd roared. He smiled broadly as he finished his speech. Reynar clapped as he walked up next to him. Jon shifted his feet; the moment for their plan was almost upon them. He prayed that the others would not be needed.

Reynar began gesturing toward the council. Each council member stepped forward and shouted something. It appeared they were giving their consent for Raynolt to lead them as Grand Master. The 10th Tier Master gave his consent and stepped back. The crowd roared again.

Jon burned with the magic inside of him. It begged release. Reynar gestured Raynolt forward. Raynolt knelt at his feet. The crowd hushed as Reynar laid his hand on Raynolt's head. Jon's magic strained at its bonds, seeking escape. It was almost time. The spell was ready, the calculations were made. It would be instantaneous.

Reynar spoke and then fell silent. Raynolt responded. The pattern repeated itself several times as Reynar swore in Raynolt as the Grand Master of the Emporium of the Kingdom of Astuari.

At last, Reynar shouted and lifted his hand from Raynolt's head. Raynolt slowly rose from his knees, a huge smiling spreading across his face. The crowd noise thundered in the enclosed space.

Jon released his spell.

A gigantic ball of fire erupted from where Raynolt stood. The crowd roared in awe, thinking it a part of the ceremony. Jon froze where he was at. He couldn't seem to move. It was impossible.

The fire died away quickly. Raynolt stood, shaking with fear, but still very much alive.

An intricate shield covered his body. The shield was beyond anything the current Magi could cast. King Reynar turned his head and looked straight at Jon.

His eyes glowed silver. He raised a hand and waved it at him. A ball of light erupted ten feet over Jon's head, marking his position. Still, Jon could not move.

It's impossible!

A Magi councilor, a woman from the look of it, suddenly arched her back and shuddered. The crowd held its breath as the black tip of a dagger erupted out of her chest. Dozens of heavily booted-feet thudded onto the roof all around Jon.

And then all hell broke loose.

***

Ashford could barely stomach the smug look on Raynolt's face as the ceremony progressed. It was pure torment to watch the man who killed his best friends become the Grand Master of the Emporium. Ashford felt rage flood his veins. He clenched his hands and prayed that Jon failed so he could get a chance to wipe the smirk off that bastard's face.

The end of the ceremony came too slowly for Ashford's taste. He longed to run up to the podium and beat Raynolt to death with his bare hands. The only consolation he felt was that Reynar would finally be out from under the threat of assassination. He wanted a long talk with him so he could apologize for getting their friends killed.

Ashford embraced his magic as Raynolt knelt to the ground to be officially sworn in. He focused the spell Jon taught him in his mind. He would still have to do the finger movements as this spell was too complicated to perform both the manipulation and vocalization in his head.

Ashford tensed as Reynar neared the end of his oath. Jon's plan was to attack right when Raynolt thought he was safe. Ashford pushed away from the wall and stood on his toes to see more clearly over the heads in front of him. The moment had finally arrived.

A gigantic fireball erupted right when Raynolt rose from his knees. The crowd roared as though it were a fireworks display. Ashford tried his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment. He wanted to kill Raynolt himself.

Then the fire quickly died out and Ashford no longer wished for that. He couldn't believe his eyes. What in the nine hells is that? Who cast that shield?

Then Safra Howe, the 2nd Tier Master, suddenly jerked as a black dagger erupted from out her chest. She convulsed and fell to the ground. A man in plain work clothes stood behind her, holding a Shadow Dagger.

All hell broke loose. The crowd screamed and began trying to run in all directions, pushing and shoving to get away. Ashford tried to fight through them so he could get to Raynolt. But the mass of bodies were too much. He was swept up in a sea of humanity and carried down the avenue, his feet barely touching the ground.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 10



He knew he made a mistake as soon as he cast a spell and pushed the crowd away from him. People collapsed onto each other and were thrown across the road. A clear space had developed around Ashford. He cursed himself for drawing attention.

Three Magi Victus suddenly appeared in front of him. Ashford sighed. He was a dead man.

***

Evelyn's mind was floating in a sea of hatred. Sophina kept a firm hand on her to keep her from bolting up the podium to tear out Raynolt's insides. Evelyn had never felt so murderous in her life.

Raynolt's smugness as he was sworn in as Grand Master was beyond tolerable. If the God were just, Raynolt's ashes would have already been cast into the air. But instead, the God saw fit to take her Daminus from her. 

So be it; she didn't need the God or anybody else. She had her own power. She could feel it running through her body. Ever since she woke up, her magic had felt different. She knew spells now that she was certain she never knew before. She could cast spells she would have never imagine casting in her wildest daydreams. She was beyond 10th Tier now. She didn't know why or how but she knew it.

Reynar was nearly done with the oaths. Sophina leaned in close to whisper over the roar of the crowd. "Remember, we do nothing unless Jon fails. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

Evelyn ignored her. She never had any attention of abiding by Jon's plans. Vengeance was hers and hers alone. She stood up and shook off Sophina's hand. She tore off her mask and flung it aside. Magic filled her and made her giddy as the sweetness of it flooded her veins. A spell formed in her mind and she had no idea what it was. She didn't care. Raynolt was going to die.

She had waited too long. Raynolt rose from his knees and was instantly consumed in a gigantic fireball that shot twenty feet into the air. The crowd roared in pleasure. Evelyn hissed in anger.

Then the miracle happened; Raynolt was still alive. He was protected by a shield spell she had never seen before. She smiled and prepared her spell again. She saw the gaps, just like Jon had said. Somehow, she knew how to shape her spell to fill the gaps. She pointed her hand at Raynolt when Safra Howe suddenly jerked.

Evelyn blinked and shook her head. Something was wrong with her. Her fellow Magi were about to die and all she cared about was killing Raynolt. Safra convulsed and dropped to the ground. Evelyn felt anguish squeeze her heart; if she hadn't been too focused on killing Raynolt she might have been able to see the Magi Victus enter the protective circle of Magi and guards.

The crowd screamed and began to panic. Sophina jumped up and drew her sword. The people around them began pushing them as they attempted to flee. "Evelyn!" Sophina screamed as she was pushed by the rush of bodies, her mask flying off and shattering under the feet of the crowd.

Evelyn reached out and grasped her fingertips. The crowd pushed them apart as they attempted to run in all directions. She screamed as she saw Sophina disappear in a flood of bodies. Evelyn was on the wrong side of the crowd; they pushed her in the other direction.

Evelyn stumbled as she was pushed and prodded. Several bodies were already underfoot, trampled to death. She felt a spell form in her mind. Unthinking, she quickly cast it. A ball of whirling air surrounded her and violently flung people away. The spell opened a path before her. She gasped as she saw Ashford surrounded by three Magi Victus. The crowd surged around them, giving them a wide space.

"Curse you!" Evelyn screamed and flung her ball of air straight at them. The whirling vortex quickly enveloped the three Magi Victus. Ashford flung his arm across his face but was untouched by the whirlwind.

The ball spun faster and faster. Evelyn was horrified to see streaks of blood in the whirling ball. She tried to release the spell but it had a life of its own. It spun so fast it made her eyes water to watch it. Finally, it exploded with the sound of thunder. Blood and bones were flung across the crowd. Evelyn dropped to her knees and vomited.

What have I done? Not even Magi Victus deserve to die like that! Her magic suddenly drained from her. She felt very tired and weak. What is wrong with me?

"Evelyn?" Ashford asked, squatting down next to her and pulling on her arm. He helped her stand up and held onto her until she found her balance.

"Thanks," she whispered hoarsely.

Ashford looked around. The crowd was still fighting to escape but nobody was around them, as they wanted no part of what they were doing. The podium was surrounded by a wall of people fighting in small groups. Guards swung their swords and Magi hurled spells. Plain-clothed Magi Victus darted in and out of sight as they took the fight to the guards and Magi.

"Where's Sophina?" Ashford asked suddenly.

"Damn!" Evelyn cried. She grabbed Ashford's arm and pulled him back toward the stone benches where she last saw Sophina. She would never figure herself if anything happened to her.

There were several trampled bodies but no sign of Sophina. "Sophina!" Ashford cried, but the noise of fighting was too great.

"I don't see Raynolt, either," Evelyn said, scanning the mass of bodies on the podium.

"Do you think Sophina is up there?" Ashford asked fearfully.

Evelyn swore under her breath. It was looking like suicide to go in there but they had no choice. She would not abandon Sophina. "Let's find out," Evelyn said, squaring her shoulders.

She opened herself to her magic and felt even wearier. The whirlwind spell must have really taken it out of her. She took a deep breath and formed a lightning spell in her mind. Once again, it was more advanced than she was usually capable of.

Ashford stuck close to her as they crept up on the chaos of the podium. A Magi Victus pulled his dagger from the body of a Magi and turned at their approach. He instantly disappeared. At least, he tried to. Evelyn followed his movements with surprise. Why was he running at them so slow?

She risked a quick sideways glance at Ashford. She felt shock hit her like a thunderclap. Ashford's movements were greatly exaggerated. She could see his eyelids blinking very slowly. His facial features twitched and changed at an impossibly slow speed.

Still stunned with shock, Evelyn glanced back at the Magi Victus. He was almost upon them and moving faster than Ashford. Evelyn's mind seemed to click as she realized the truth. The Magi Victus and Ashford weren't moving slowly.

Evelyn's mind was processing everything at an incredible speed.

She almost laughed aloud as she released her lightning bolt at the Magi Victus. It struck him square in the chest. Time lurched back into its proper place as the Magi Victus was hurled across the Courtyard with a smoking hole in his chest.

"What just happened?" Ashford asked.

"I don't know," Evelyn lied. "Let's just hurry."

They moved closer to the destruction of what used to be the podium. Great chunks of marble lay strewn across the ground. Dozens of bodies were scattered everywhere. Blood soaked the stone floor and pooled under bodies. Magi were huddled together on what remained of the podium as their shields flared whenever a Magi Victus would streak by. They shot fireballs and lightning bolts randomly, never once hitting a Magi Victus. The guards swung their swords at empty air as they sought to protect the Magi.

Evelyn focused and tried to see the movements of the Magi Victus again. All she accomplished was a pounding headache.

"I don't know what we can do, Ashford!" Evelyn shouted over the noise of battle. Ashford looked just as lost as her.

"Ashford Caulston?" a voice hissed from behind.

Evelyn whirled around. There was nobody there. She looked back at the podium. The Magi looked confused as the attacks stopped. Evelyn glanced around nervously. Something felt wrong.

"Evelyn--" Ashford began worriedly, but then stopped as a group of five Magi Victus suddenly surrounded them.

"Help!" Evelyn shouted at the remaining Magi. They stared at her with round, fearful eyes. Even the guards looked away guiltily.

"We've been looking for you two," one of the Magi Victus said. "We will make this offer only once; surrender and we will spare your lives."

Ashford inched closer to Evelyn. He looked scared but his face was firm and resolute. Evelyn knew he wouldn't surrender. She briefly considered it. It might give her a chance of avenging Daminus if she could live long enough to escape and kill Raynolt.

But the thought of Daminus made her think of their time together during the War of the Desert. Daminus had been a fiercely proud warrior. She knew what he would do. With a grim smile, she turned to face the Magi Victus who had spoken.

"We return the offer to you; surrender now and you will live to see another day."

The Magi Victus' eyes widened in outrage. All five of them brought up their Shadow Daggers in a fighting stance. They disappeared. This time, Evelyn was not saved by a sudden transformation of magic. She was too exhausted to even cast a simple shield spell. In one heartbeat, it was over.

Three of the Magi Victus had targeted her. The other two went after Ashford. This knowledge registered in her brain as she looked at the Magi Victus surrounding them. They had their daggers outstretched, each one going after a vital organ.

She knew all of this because they were frozen in place, blades barely an inch from her skin.

Evelyn didn't hear a single sound around her. It had fallen eerily silent. She turned her head back toward the podium. A tall man was walking toward her, dressed in a black, shimmering cloth. His eyes glowed silver and his face was livid with rage.

"YOU!" he said, waving his hand angrily. The head of a Magi Victus exploded like a watermelon. 

"WILL!" He waved his hand again and one of the Magi Victus crumbled to the ground with a sickening crunch, as though all his bones had been shattered.

"NEVER!" The next Magi Victus exploded like a firecracker. Blood and guts washed over the ground like a flood.

"TOUCH!" The fourth Magi Victus swelled like a balloon. He didn't explode like Evelyn expected. He was squeezed to death as all of his organs pushed their way out of his skin and onto the ground.

"THEM!" Reynar roared with an anger Evelyn had never witnessed. The last Magi Victus had fire erupt from every inch of skin. Evelyn had never seen such power before.

"Reynar," Ashford said wonderingly. He stared at him in awe.

Reynar let out a breath and released his magic. His anger slowly faded and he smiled wearily at Ashford as he walked up to him. "It's good to see you my friend," he said, gripping his shoulder.

Ashford blinked away tears as he threw back his head and laughed. "Damn you to the nine hells, Reynar! Where did you learn that magic?"

"Later," he promised, giving his shoulder another squeeze. He turned his penetrating gaze on Evelyn. "You must be Evelyn Ventus," he said, with an intensity that scared her.

Why is he looking at me like that? "King Reynar...I don't know how to thank you."

He kept his intense gaze on her for several moments before replying. "No thanks is needed, Evelyn. I'm just glad you two are ok. But I must say I am a little surprised to find you two out here, given the...circumstances."

Ashford cut in before she could respond. "We came here to kill Raynolt. With him dead, the threat to you would be lifted."

Reynar turned his gaze toward Ashford. Ashford took a step back at the look in Reynar's eyes. "Do I look like I need help?" he snapped.

Ashford blinked. "Reynar...what...what in the nine hells is going on?"

Reynar looked away and examined the bodies on the ground. "This isn't the best place to talk. The fighting is still going on in the city. Let's go back to my palace."

Evelyn looked at Ashford. His face was pale and he looked at his friend as though he had never seen him before. "That's a kind offer but I'm afraid we have somewhere else to be," Evelyn said cautiously.

Reynar gave her a hard look. "Not anymore."

Ashford stepped toward him. "Reynar, what is going on? We came out here to save you from Raynolt only to discover you know powerful magic."

Several of the Magi behind Reynar whispered amongst themselves, no doubt discussing Ashford's accusation that Raynolt was trying to kill the King.

"Raynolt is none of your concern," he said, his voice making the words final.

Something clicked inside Evelyn's mind. "Powerful magic...the shield that protected Raynolt earlier...that was yours, wasn't it?"

Reynar's gaze seemed to bore through her skull. The man radiated power. He lowered his voice, so that only Evelyn and Ashford could hear. "Raynolt serves a purpose. I need him...for now."

Ashford opened his mouth angrily. "Reynar, I can't believe that--" He cut off as his body jerked up into the air, held by runes of binding. Reynar turned silver-filled eyes toward him. "I may be your friend but you must never forget who you are talking to! I am your King! You will remember you place!"

Ashford spat down at him. "Damn you and your secrets, Reynar! We always knew you hid stuff from us but we overlooked it because we loved you! And now they're all dead because of you!"

Evelyn instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say. She tried to grab Reynar's arm but she was already too late. Reynar growled savagely and hurled Ashford across the Courtyard. His body flew through the air dangerously fast and smacked hard against the wall of a building. He fell to the ground, motionless.

"You don't think I know that their deaths are on my hands?" Reynar roared, throwing off Evelyn's feeble grip and walking toward Ashford's limp body.

He his hands gestured and Ashford stood up on invisible strings. Evelyn tried desperately to draw her magic but she was just too exhausted to hold on to it. She picked up a rock from the ground and hurled it at Reynar. His shield flared and the rock turned to dust. He didn't even notice it. The Magi and guards shifted but didn't move. They probably weren't certain of what was going on.

Reynar stretched out his hand toward Ashford. "I don't even need your pathetic shield anymore. Jon Laurent is captured, as we speak. My last threat has been removed."

Ashford suddenly fell to the ground. Reynar stopped walking. Evelyn could see shock on his face. She turned her gaze back to Ashford.

Sophina stood in front of him, her sword out in front of her. Blood caked her face but she stared firmly at Reynar. The sword was ablaze with runes. Evelyn could feel the power from it from where she stood. It practically hummed with power.

"One more step and I will run you through," she said, pointing the sword at Reynar.

***

Sophina had never felt so helpless in her entire life when the rush of the crowd carried her away from Evelyn. The sheer terror of the people fleeing angered Sophina. She had never seen such cowardice in her life. They were like mindless animals as they pushed and shoved, desperate to escape the carnage.

"Evelyn!" she called, but didn't know what good it would do. She fought against the tide of people as best as she could but was she pushed, yanked, and barreled aside. She tangled her feet with somebody and was shoved to the ground. She covered her face as she was battered by the uncaring rush of the crowd.

A boot crunched into her nose, spraying blood over her face. She bit her lip and continued to roll out of the way. She was fortunate to have been at the edge of the crowd; she rolled only a couple of feet before hitting the edge of a building. It left her just enough room to stand up. She pushed people away angrily as she caught her breath. Her whole body felt like it was bruised. Her nose continued to pour hot, sticky blood down her face.

Sophina gritted her teeth and did was she had to do. She wasn't going to fail her promise to Jon. She would protect Evelyn or die trying. So she unsheathed her sword and waded back into the crowd, swinging widely. She winced every time her sword bit into flesh. She left agonized screams behind her as she began her pushing her way back toward the podium.

Soon enough people got out of the way of her sword. She stopped her wild swinging and had enough room to jog. The last of the crowd passed her by as she came back to the center of the Courtyard. What she saw chilled her heart.

Evelyn, please be alive! Dozens of bodies lay scattered throughout the Courtyard. Countless small groups of battle raged on around her. She saw at least two Magi and several guards in each group. They were fighting ghosts as far as she was concerned; the Magi Victus moved too fast.

The battle was especially fierce on top of the podium. She thought she saw Raynolt and a female Magi dart away into a nearby alley, but she couldn't be sure. She was too busy searching the battle for any sign of Evelyn. She circled wide around the podium and still couldn't find any sign of Evelyn.

She looked away from the podium and across the Courtyard when she heard a loud commotion. There was a large group of people standing by a pile of bodies. Sophina squinted; it looked like King Reynar was talking to...Evelyn!

She appeared to be safe. She also appeared to be standing next to Ashford. So everyone is safe...but what about Jon? Where is he? Sophina scanned the nearby rooftops but saw no sign of movement. Her attention was drawn back to Evelyn as a sudden commotion broke out.

She gasped when she saw Ashford picked up into the air and dashed against the side of a building. Sophina howled in rage and sprinted across the Courtyard. She jumped over bodies and large pools of blood. The sword in her hand began to vibrate and the runes began to glow as she neared King Reynar.

She saw him gesture with his hand right before she arrived. She didn't even hesitate; she jumped in front of Ashford, bringing her sword down in a slashing motion. She felt her sword sing inside of her as it cut through the magic that bound Ashford. The runes blazed brighter.

The King stared at her, shocked. She pointed her sword at him, her blood boiling with rage. What the hell is going on? "One more step and I will run you through," she warned him. At the moment, she didn't care who he was.

He said nothing, but continued to stare at her in disbelief. Never taking her eyes off of him, she knelt down and shook Ashford's shoulder. He moaned but didn't wake. Well, at least he is still alive. But for how long? His body has to be broken.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sophina asked, shooting a glance at Evelyn.

Evelyn hung her head. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I couldn't stop him."

"Where did you get that sword?" King Reynar asked in a voice of command.

Sophina's smile showed him all of her teeth. "Why don't you come closer and I will tell you."

Reynar's face hardened. "You want to do this the hard way? Fine. Guards, take her."

Sophina didn't even give them a chance. The King's personal guards stepped around him but were instantly met by Sophina's sword. She darted in and stabbed the first guard in the armpit before he even had a chance to pull his sword. He howled and dropped to the ground. The next two guards attacked her simultaneously. She watched their movements as she countered every strike. Her sword was a blur in the air and it hummed with its magic.

She struck the chest-plate of one guard just to push him back. At least, that was her intention. She never expected her sword to slice through the armor as though it were cloth. The runes flashed as the sword split him open from shoulder to waist, the armor falling into two pieces next to him.

The rest of the guards stopped and stared at her. She was easily outnumbered but she had never felt so alive. Jon's training was paying off.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 11



Note: Hey, everyone! I'm betting that you are wondering what the hell happened to me, huh? Well, I had a terrible tradegy in my family. I don't want to talk about it, but let's just say I had no desire to write for a long time. But life goes on and here I am. I'm sorry about the delay in bringing you this chapter. Once I sat down and started writing, I must have gone through several revisions. I am revealing alot of secrets in this chapter and I wanted to get it just right. I hope you enjoy it!

***

Sophina held Ashford's head in her lap and grimaced against the wave of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. She had ridden through the streets of Astuari as if pursued by fire-breathing demons, only to find that Jon hadn't yet returned.

She tried desperately to find the hidden switch that opened the false wall, hoping that Jon was somehow inside his house and unaware of her presence, but her search was futile. Jon was not here; Sophina could feel it. Ashford's one hope was gone. So she had pulled Ashford from the horse and held him as she sat in the rubble of the abandoned house.

"I'm sorry, Ash," Sophina whispered, staring down sorrowfully at Ashford's face. The blood from the wound on the back of his bald head was drying and sticking to her thigh. His right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. She had pulled back his tunic to discover deep, purple bruises surrounding his ribs.

He was broken; broken by a man who was supposed to be his best friend. Why? Why did King Reynar do this? Didn't they grow up together? Ashford protected Reynar with his life!

Sophina shook her head. She just didn't understand anything anymore. Ashford and his friends had put their lives at risk to protect Reynar. Then, earlier in the day, Reynar had acted like Ashford was the mud underneath his boot. He even claimed that he no longer needed Ashford's shield.

He said he didn't need it anymore because Jon was captured... Sophina refused to believe it. Nobody could capture Jon Laurent. He was just delayed, that's all. He would be back shortly.

She struggled to control her emotions. Her brain still couldn't wrap around the events of the day. Evelyn's decision to go with King Reynar still shocked her. Sophina felt stupid for not seeing how Evelyn hadn't really recovered from Daminus' death. Reynar played on Evelyn's emotions perfectly.

Most of all, Evelyn's accusation that Jon was nothing more than an assassin bothered Sophina the most. She couldn't reconcile the image of the man who spent a month teaching her how to fight with the man who killed for a living. The problem was that Jon did kill Evelyn's husband. How would Sophina feel, if Jon had murdered Evelyn?

Ashford stirred feebly in her arms. Sophina cursed herself for letting her thoughts drift off while Ashford lay dying in her arms. "Ashford?" she asked gently.

Ashford twitched and then lay still again. His face was pale and covered in sweat. Sophina laid her hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat. It was very weak and slow. He was near the brink of death.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. She had never felt so helpless. She had come to rely on Jon to save the day. Now he was nowhere to be found and the only hope for Ashford was the healing offered by Magi.

So this is how it ends? Sophina thought sadly. Without the protection offered by Jon and Ashford, Raynolt's men would find her in no time. Or were they Reynar's men? She didn't know and honestly didn't care. She always hated politics and the power struggles that come with it.

The sound of shuffling feet snapped her head up. She squinted her eyes against the fading sun and looked out through the broken wall of the house. A person was slowly approaching the house. Sophina gently removed Ashford's head from her lap and got up. She drew her sword silently. She made her way to the doorway and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

The person slowly came closer. He appeared to be holding a bundle over his shoulder...

Gasping, Sophina sheathed her sword ran toward the figure. Once she got close enough to clearly see the man, she felt her heart clench. It was Marcus, the beggar Jon talked to. He was carrying Jon over his shoulder.

"Jon!" Sophina screamed.

Marcus stopped and sighed wearily. "Damn me to the nine hells, this man is heavy! Do you think you could...?"

Sophina didn't even bother answering. She grabbed Jon by the arm and slung him over onto her shoulder. Marcus was right; Jon was surprisingly heavy. "Is he alive?" she asked desperately.

Marcus put his hands on his back and stretched. He sighed and nodded at her. "He's alive, but we need to get him inside."

Sophina tried to keep the panic from her voice. "Will he wake up anytime soon? Our friend is gravely injured and needs Jon's healing right away."

Marcus grunted. "Jon won't know what day it is when he wakes up."

Sophina nearly dropped Jon as despair swept over her. "Then it's too late." She felt hot tears sting the sides of her eyes.

"More temptation, God?" Marcus mumbled under his breath. Sophina cast a wary glance at him. She knew the beggar to be delusional, but was he violent as well?

"Temptation?" Sophina asked cautiously.

Marcus gave her a sharp look. When Sophina only shifted Jon's weight on her shoulder and stared back at him, his eyes softened. "I...I may be able to help your friend."

With that cryptic statement, he began walking toward the house. Sophina hurried to catch up with him, carefully keeping Jon from falling off her shoulder. She stared skeptically at Marcus' frightened face. "What do you mean? Are you a physician? Because only magic can help my friend now."

He ignored her question and continued on into the house. He stopped when he spotted Ashford lying on the floor. "I don't even know his path," he whispered. He turned to Sophina with wide, fearful eyes. "What will I change? This is why I don't interact with people!"

Sophina set Jon carefully down on the floor. She turned toward Marcus and grabbed his filthy tunic. "I don't know what in the nine hells you are babbling about, but if you really can help Ashford then get to it!" she snarled, putting her face close to his.

Marcus blinked at her. The fear slowly lifted from his face. "I can see why he likes you," he whispered.

Sophina opened her mouth angrily but Marcus quickly cut her off. "I can help him," he assured her. He had to pry Sophina's hands off of his tunic.

"Sorry," she muttered, stepping back.

Marcus knelt down by Ashford's head and laid his hand on his forehead. Marcus closed his eyes and was silent for several moments. Sophina started to doubt his sanity. "Are you sure you can help him? Are you...are you a Magi?"

Marcus opened his eyes slowly. Sweat bathed his forehead. "No...I never had that title."

Sophina was really beginning to worry now. "Then what are you?"

Marcus grimaced and removed his hand from Ashford's forehead. "I'm something else," he replied distractedly. "Your friend is hanging on by a thread. I'm going to have to do this fast."

"Do what--" Sophina began, but then stepped back in shock.

Golden light shone from Marcus' eyes. "You might want to close your eyes," he said. His voice had transformed. He no longer sounded like a babbling madman; his voice was deep and powerful.

Sophina couldn't look away. She had no idea what was going on. Magi's eyes always glowed silver. She had no idea what this was. But she knew it was powerful; she could feel it deep in her bones. 

Marcus began to sing; that was the best way Sophina could describe it. His words were music itself. His voice contained the growth of a tree, the falling of a leaf, the splatter of raindrops; it contained everything.

She quickly understood why he wanted her to close her eyes. A golden nimbus of light surrounded Ashford's body. No, it seemed to come from within Ashford. It grew brighter and brighter until Sophina was forced to close her eyes and turn away.

Marcus' voice continued to fill her soul. She wanted to weep from the beauty of it. She felt hope, love, life, and dozens of other positive emotions pouring out from her soul. She wanted to dance to it. She needed to dance to it; the power begged a response from her. It filled her mind and grew louder and more beautiful. She wanted to explode with the joy she felt from it. She wanted to--

And just like that, the light was gone. The music dimmed and faded away. Everything came rushing back to her; the good and the bad. She dropped to her knees and tried her best not to weep. She felt so terribly alone all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry," she heard a voice say. She felt a hand pat her shoulder. "I had forgotten what it was like for normal people to be around it."

"I want it back," she begged, her voice cracking like a child's.

"It would have destroyed you, had it gone on longer," the voice said sadly.

She didn't care. It would have been worth losing her life just to bathe in that music one more time. "Your friend will live," the voice offered her.

My friend? She picked up her head and saw the man the voice was referring to. Memory came back slowly.

Ashford! She crawled on all fours and grabbed his face. His skin color was normal. She turned his head; the wound was gone. His arm was straight and the bruises underneath his tunic had vanished. She turned and stared at Marcus, disbelieving. "I...don't know how to thank you. Who are you?"

Marcus rubbed his face. Heavy bags hung under his eyes and sweat dripped off his face. "The time for answers will come shortly. For now, take your friend inside and put him to bed."

Sophina hesitated. "What about Jon?"

Marcus looked out past the ruined walls and toward the street. "I will bring him in shortly," he said, never taking his eyes off of the street.

Sophina cradled Ashford's body and lifted him up. "What about the secret entrance? I can't open it."

Marcus waved his hand distractedly. "It's open."

A low rumbling sound came from behind Sophina. She turned around and was shocked to see the wall lowering to the ground. The hidden staircase was revealed. "Thanks," she said, amazement filling her voice.

Marcus was already walking out of the house. Sophina hesitated at the top of the stairs before shrugging her shoulders and carefully descending down the steps. She would just have to trust that Marcus hadn't lost his mind again. Carefully cradling Ashford's body, she made her way into Jon's house.

***

Jachal Thane congratulated himself for what had to be the hundredth time since King Reynar had let Ashford and the woman leave. Jachal didn't know what was going on between Reynar and Ashford, but what he did know was that Raynolt would greatly reward the man who brought him Ashford.

Jachal, knowing where the true power lay, took it upon himself to gather two other Magi loyal to Raynolt and followed the woman carrying Ashford. They used their magic to conceal themselves as they very carefully followed the woman through the city.

To Jachal's surprise, the woman led them into Beggar's Hell. She rode up to a derelict building and took Ashford down from the horse and carried him inside. Since most of the walls were a crumbling ruin, Jachal, carefully concealed in an alley across the street, was able to see that she merely sat on the floor and held Ashford's head in her lap.

"It appears she is waiting for someone," Jachal commented more to himself than his two companions.

Krysia nodded her head. "I think Raynolt was right; Ashford and Evelyn must have aligned themselves with Jon Laurent. Why else would King Reynar have attacked Ashford like that?"

Jachal shook his head. "I never thought I would see the day when a Magi would team up with a Magi Victus."

Gero, the other Magi Jachal had brought, snorted in derision. "Is it really that hard to believe? We have hired them to do our bidding for centuries now. Isn't that the same thing as working with them?"

"This is different," Jachal growled. "They've set themselves against us. It's as if they turned their backs on our guild. And to consort with Jon Laurent? No Magi worth anything would ever sink that far."

Krysia grunted in agreement. She always agreed with him. "So, should we wait to see who is coming for her?"

"It shouldn't be long now; Ashford doesn't look like he will make it much longer." Jachal grimaced; if Ashford died, Raynolt might not care any longer who had found him.

Gero seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Should we go get him before it's too late?"

Jachal shook his head. "No, let's wait a few more minutes--"

"There's no need," Krysia interrupted, pointing down the street. A man was walking slowly down the street. He appeared to be carrying a body on his shoulders...

"Who is he carrying?" Jachal wondered out loud.

Krysia shrugged. Gero muttered a few words of the ancient language and squinted toward the man. "I don't recognize him," he finally said.

They watched as the woman came running out of the building toward the man. "Jon!" the woman screamed.

Jachal exchanged incredulous looks with Krysia and Gero. "You don't think that's..."

"Jon Laurent," Krysia breathed in wonder. Her eyes were opened wide in shock. "I thought King Reynar said he was captured."

"He looks...ordinary," Gero whispered in amazement.

Jachal couldn't believe his luck. To think, I came here looking for Ashford and now Jon Laurent has fallen into my lap! I'm going to be Raynolt's right-hand man after this!

"Let's take them!" he whispered excitedly.

Krysia and Gero exchanged nervous looks. "Don't you think we should report back to Raynolt?" Krysia asked hesitantly.

"Are you crazy? Look at him! Jon Laurent is clearly unconscious! Do you think some woman and old man are a match for a 9th Tier, a 7th Tier, and a 6th Tier Magi?"

Krysia's face relaxed as she smiled. "Of course not; I was just scared that Jon Laurent might still be conscious. But I can see him better now. Let's go for it."

Jachal turned toward Gero, who still looked unconvinced. "Come on, Jachal, let's just play this one safe. I'm sure Raynolt will reward us just as much for giving him the location of Laurent's hideout as he would for bringing them back ourselves."

Jachal clenched his fist tight to keep from striking the man. He watched impatiently as the old man and woman went inside the building. He turned back to Gero. "Don't be a coward Gero! You wouldn't have aligned yourself with Raynolt if you didn't want some glory to come your way, right?"

Gero glanced away. "I don't know..."

"We don't need him," Krysia snapped. She directed a look of contempt toward Gero. "We can do this ourselves, Jachal."

Jachal smiled as Gero's chest swelled up in anger. "I didn't say I wasn't going to do it! I just don't like to rush into things. But I will do it, ok?"

Krysia winked at Jachal as they turned back to look at the house. "Ok, so are we all ready?" Jachal asked rhetorically. "I think the first thing--"

"Look!" Krysia yelled, grabbing Jachal's arm.

A bright golden light was emanating from the building. Jachal had no idea what was going on. "What in the nine hells is that?"

They shielded their eyes as the light grew brighter and brighter. Finally, the light vanished as rapidly as it had appeared. Jachal blinked repeatedly to dispel the flashes of light in his eyes. He squinted toward the building. He could see that Ashford was still lying on the floor. The old man was talking to the woman.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Gero whispered.

"What was that?" Krysia asked. "It wasn't magic. I have never seen light shine like that. Was it a lantern?"

"Who cares?" Jachal growled. In truth, he was shaken. He had no idea what that light was but he was sure it wasn't a lantern. For a second there, he thought he could feel something in his mind. He shook his head. "Things are still the same in there. Let's do this before it's too late."

"What is he doing now?" Krysia asked suddenly.

The old man had walked out of the building and into the middle of the road. His head was bent and he was looking down at his hands. "It doesn't matter," Jachal replied. "Let's just take him out while he's by himself."

Krysia nodded. Her eyes glowed silver and she began to chant. She raised her hand but then dropped it slowly. Jachal looked up. The old man raised his head and stared directly at them.

His eyes shone golden.

"Impossible," Jachal whispered.

The old man began singing. At least, that's what it sounded like to Jachal. His words wove golden threads of runic symbols toward them. Jachal had never seen runes so intricately written. He barely had a moment to panic before the runes reached him and settled into his body. After that, all his worries were wiped away.

He felt like a newborn baby. The old man's song reverberated in his mind and in his soul, creating images of life and birth and renewal. He dropped to his knees in awe-struck wonder. He heard Krysia and Gero weeping and laughing at the same time. Jachal didn't even know that he was doing the same thing.

The words continued to pour through his soul. Jachal wiped tears of blood from his eyes. The song was eternal; Jachal knew this instinctively. He was carried on a river of creation that began long ago and would go on for all of eternity. Jachal knew the history of the stones beneath his knees. He knew where the wind that touched his cheek came from. He knew everything.

Jachal wished the song would never end. He continued to laugh and weep even as he coughed up blood. He gloried in the song as the pressure built up in his mind. He felt his cock harden in his pants. He felt the orgasm that shook his body as the song reached a crescendo.

He felt the faint pop in his head and the warm gush of blood from his nose and knew no more. The song carried him home.

***

Raynolt paced the rooftop in long, furious strides. He stopped and leaned his hands against the edge of the rooftop. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How do you lose a dead body?" he asked through gritted teeth.

He turned around and glared at Sanje. Sanje's expression remained neutral. "He must of had help," he replied evenly.

"Of course he had help!" Raynolt roared, spit flying from his mouth. "Dead bodies just don't go wandering off by themselves!"

Sanje blinked. "Don't worry, we will find out who took the body. I have my men searching the entire area as we speak."

Raynolt spun around and leaned against the wall again. He stared unseeingly at the ground below. Laurent's body should have been right there! I should be pissing on his corpse as we speak! "He should have already been found by now. Your men are useless."

Raynolt turned around and was glad to see Sanje's eye twitching. He had finally upset the man's cool exterior. "My men will have his corpse before the night is through," he said coldly.

"I doubt that," Raynolt sneered. "Regardless, Laurent is dead. We can finally move on to the next stage of the plan."

"The spy has been taken care of?" Sanje asked.

Raynolt nodded. "She's just another casualty in today's chaos. Reynar will no longer be privy to our plans."

Sanje hesitated a moment before speaking. "About our next step...I've heard reports that Ashford Caulston was spotted today."

Raynolt cursed under his breath. It was too much to hope for that there weren't any Magi Victus in the vicinity to witness what happened today. "Yes, it would seem so."

Sanje walked over next to Raynolt and leaned against the wall. They both were silent for several moments. "I heard that Reynar nearly killed him," Sanje finally said.

Raynolt grimaced. "Again, it would seem so."

Sanje sighed and shook his head. "I don't understand it. Why would he turn against the man who was helping him stay alive? Doesn't he need Ashford's shield?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 11



Raynolt said nothing. He remembered all too well the shield that had saved his life. The complexity of that shield was beyond anything Raynolt ever imagined. He was beginning to think that he was playing a game he didn't fully know the rules to.

When Raynolt didn't reply, Sanje continued. "I don't like this. I have a bad feeling. I don't think we know everything there is to know about King Reynar. When you told me how powerful he was, I just thought you were exaggerating in order to spare your ego. But now..."

"I don't know what game he is playing but does it really matter?" Raynolt asked. "We still need to kill Ashford Caulston in order to strip away that layer of protection. After that, we can worry about how we can kill him."

"Apparently, Reynar let Ashford leave with his life. We lost our chance to discover where Ashford is hiding," Sanje said carefully.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Raynolt replied, turning toward Sanje with a smile. "Three of my Magi who were at the Courtyard haven't reported back to me yet. They had instructions to keep an eye out for any of Laurent's companions, especially Ashford Caulston."

Sanje raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do you think they found Laurent's hideout?"

"We will see here shortly. But enough of this; we need to discuss our plans. Do you have an idea of your casualties yet?"

Sanje sighed. "So far, it appears I lost thirteen of my men. What are your losses?"

"I don't have an exact figure yet but I would say over thirty Magi were killed today." Raynolt grimaced; he didn't like the ratio of Magi to Magi Victus casualties.

Sanje, however, nodded. "So far, it's going how I thought it would. There shouldn't be as many casualties in one day as there were today. From here on out, this will be a war of attrition."

Raynolt nodded with agreement. "Tomorrow, I will have a squad patrolling--"

"Master Victus! Come quick! Vance is back and he is acting strange!"

A Magi Victus had coming running across the roof. Sanje and Raynolt exchanged a look before they ran after the Magi Victus. He led them down the stairs, all the way through the building, and out the door to the street outside. A group of Magi Victus were huddled around another one of their number.

"Back off!" Sanje yelled. The Magi Victus parted and let him and Raynolt through. The Magi Victus in question, who was standing still with a dull expression on his face, gave no sign of recognizing his master.

"Vance! What is it?" Sanje grabbed his arm and shook him.

"Who is this man?" Raynolt demanded.

"Vance was one of the men I sent to find Laurent's body. Vance, what's wrong? Speak man!" Sanje shook him again.

Vance blinked slowly and looked over at Sanje. "It was so beautiful." His eyes had a faraway look. He grinned like a child.

Sanje looked over at Raynolt. "I don't see any runes on him, do you?"

Raynolt shook his head. "If he was affected by magic, the damage might have lingered after the spell wore off."

"He glowed like the sun," Vance said suddenly. "He spoke music to me. I didn't want him to leave."

To Raynolt's horror, the tall Magi Victus suddenly began to sob like a child denied a treat. "I begged him not to take the music away! But...but...but he didn't listen! He just kept singing to the body in his arms and not to me."

Sanje and Raynolt exchanged sharp looks. Sanje's grip tightened on Vance's arm. "Vance, what body? Who was singing?"

Vance sniffed and wiped his eyes with his arm. "The golden man was singing. The song was in my soul, I could feel it. The song told me to turn around and forget that I ever saw the golden man. But I couldn't do that! His song was too beautiful to ever forget. I just want it back." He sniffed again as more tears leaked out of his eyes.

"Does this make any sense to you?" Sanje asked Raynolt.

"I've heard there are some spells that can affect the mind," Raynolt said slowly. "Whatever it was, it sounds like it was meant to erase his memory."

Sanje shook Vance's arm again. "Listen to me, Vance. Who's body was in the golden man's arms?"

Vance looked at Sanje again. His eyes appeared to lose some of the faraway look. "Body? I...don't know...what's happening to me. Golden man?" Vance shook his head. "I remember...something."

"What?" Sanje pressed.

Vance's eyes suddenly opened wide. "I remember! I found Laurent! He was being carried by...by somebody! And then...I remember nothing...nothing but the song..." His eyes started to glaze over again.

Sanje shook him hard. Vance blinked and shook his head. "Laurent? Are you sure? This is important, Vance!"

Vance put his hands to his head. "My head hurts so much. Why did you have to wake me up? I was enjoying the song..."

"Damn the song, Vance! Did you see Laurent's body or not?"

Vance fell to his knees, gripping his head. "Sanje? Sanje...the song is too loud! Laurent? Yes...yes I saw him! The golden man sang to him! Breathed life back into him! I saw it! Laurent lives! Oh God, my head pounds like the sea! The song is too much!"

Vance suddenly jerked. He fell to his back and convulsed. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Blood poured from his mouth, nose, and ears. The top of his head exploded, shooting brain matter across the cobbled street. The whole process only took a few moments; Vance stopped convulsing and lay still.

Sanje stared at Raynolt, completely unnerved. "What in the nine hells have we got ourselves into?"

Raynolt couldn't find the breath to answer.

***

The room was as beautiful as always. High windows with colored glass painted the room in a riot of colors. A throne stood up on a dais, under a direct beam of sunlight. The sun set off the sparkling of hundreds of precious jewels. It was a beautiful chair.

Jon stood in front of the throne and fought back the wave of bitterness that tried to wash over him. He reached out a hand to touch the arm of the chair. His finger stopped an inch from it.

"It wasn't fair, what happened to you."

Jon sighed and turned around. Sarah stood several feet away from him. Berrick was by her side. "Why do you care?" Jon asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Sarah hung her head and Berrick growled. "Stop acting like a child! You know we always loved you," Berrick said.

Jon turned around to stare at the throne. "Why am I not surprise to see you two here? Have you come to torment me further at the scene of my last betrayal?"

"You know why we are here," Sarah replied sadly.

Jon turned back around. "Forgiveness again? I have done as much as I can. I gave the sword away, Berrick. What more do you two want from me?"

Berrick stepped forward into a beam of multi-colored sunlight. "One last person remains. You need only forgive one last time."

Jon spat and pointed at the throne behind him. "How many betrayals do you want me to forgive? She took everything we stood for and died for and shat on it!"

Sarah stepped up next to Berrick. Her hair looked red under the light of the windows. "We don't ask your forgiveness for her," Sarah said, a uncharacteristic sneer on her lips. "She has to pay her own price for what she did."

Jon felt his anger slip away. He stared at Sarah and Berrick, trying to guess their game. "Then who?" he asked curiously.

Sarah stared at Jon with such sadness that he had to turn away. "You," she said.

Jon felt a weight suddenly tug at his waist. He glanced down and saw his Shadow Dagger sheathed on his belt. He looked up at Sarah and Berrick and back down at his dagger. He gripped it hard with his hand.

"No!" Jon growled. "There is no forgiveness for that."

"That is not for you to decide," Berrick said simply. "You knew the price when you agreed. He will forgive you; why can't you?"

Jon whipped out his Shadow Dagger and held it out in front of him. "You have no idea the price I paid! There is no forgiveness for what I had to do, why can't you see that? No matter how justified it was!"

"Jon--" Sarah began, but he cut her off.

"NO! You can't ask this of me!"

"Then you will never know peace," Berrick replied.

"There is no peace for me!" Blinded by tears, Jon raised the dagger high and then shoved it into his chest, straight into his heart.

Jon bolted upright in bed, clutching his chest. His body was drenched in sweat. He had been dreaming again. Sighing, he fell back and took deep breaths. Why am I dreaming these things of late? What do they mean?

It took him a few moments in silent contemplation before he heard the breathing of a sleeping person next to him. Startled, he sat up again and saw Sophina sitting next to his bed. Her head was hanging down and her chest was moving up and down slowly. Jon rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. Where was he?

Little by little, fragments of memory started to come back. He had tried to assassinate Raynolt; he remembered that much. He squeezed his eyes and willed himself to remember more. Something went wrong. He remembered flashes of battle on rooftops. He remembered looking up into Sanje's face as he...as he...

Jon throw the blankets off of him and jumped out of bed. The sudden movement snapped Sophina awake. "Huh? Wha--Jon! You're awake!"

Jon ran toward her and grabbed her shoulders. "Where's Ashford?" he demanded.

Sophina looked down at him and blushed. "Jon...you don't...you don't have any clothes on."

Jon ignored her. He shook her urgently. "Where's Ashford?"

"In...in your guest room," Sophina spluttered. Her face was very red. "Umm...don't you want to put some clothes on?"

Jon let her go and ran toward his dresser. He opened the doors and quickly grabbed a tunic and trousers. He could feel Sophina's eyes on his back. He knew what she saw.

"Oh God," she breathed. "Your back...how did you get those scars?"

Jon threw on his shirt and tucked it into his trousers and belted his Shadow Dagger. Ignoring her question, he opened his door and made his way quickly to the guest room. He yanked open the door and stormed inside. Ashford was sitting up on the bed and talking to Marcus. They both looked around when the door crashed open.

"Jon--" Marcus began, but stopped when Jon strode swiftly across the room. Jon reached over the bed and grabbed Ashford by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out of the bed. He picked him off the floor and slammed him against the wall, his hand crushing his throat.

"Jon! What are you doing?" Sophina screamed from behind him.

"Who is he?" Jon yelled into Ashford's face. Ashford's hands were swatting feebly at Jon's iron grip. His face was turning redder and redder. "Where did he learn that magic?"

Jon felt a hand grab his forearm. "Jon, he can't breathe. Let him down. It's ok." Marcus' cool words seeped into Jon's enraged brain.

Jon turned away in disgust and let Ashford drop to the floor. Sophina gave him a scared look and rushed over to Ashford.

"Are you ok, Ash?" she asked gently.

Ashford was coughing roughly and massaging his throat. "Yeah," he wheezed.

Sophina turned and stared at Jon angrily. "What in the nine hells do you think you're doing? He's just recovered from near fatal wounds!"

Jon returned her angry stare with one of his own. She glanced down quickly. "I want some answers," Jon growled.

"Now is not the time for anger," Marcus said softly.

Jon switched his angry stare over to Marcus. Marcus wasn't cowed as easily as Sophina was. Jon noticed the heavy bags under Marcus' eyes and felt guilt creep over him. He could tell Marcus was in a great deal of pain. How long had it been since Marcus was able to take the drug?

Jon folded his arms over his chest and looked back down at Ashford. "I'm...sorry for losing my temper. I was taken by surprise yesterday. I'm not use to that feeling."

Ashford stood up with Sophina's help. He rubbed his throat again and glanced guiltily at Jon. "I don't blame you for reacting like that. I would be very angry, too."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Sophina asked, looking between Ashford and Jon.

"It seems Ashford was withholding information about King Reynar. We wasted our time worrying about Raynolt."

"What does he mean?" Sophina asked, staring imploringly at Ashford.

Ashford shook his head and continued to rub his throat. "You have it all wrong, Jon. I'm just as surprised as you."

"Somehow I doubt that," Jon replied coldly. "You were his best friend. You can't tell me that you never noticed his power before."

Ashford sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "We all loved Reynar very much. We wanted to protect him. I think, in doing so, we missed certain signs."

"Where did he get his power?" Jon repeated.

"What power are you talking about?" Sophina asked.

Jon glanced at her irritably. "When I attempted to kill Raynolt, he was suddenly protected by a very advanced shield spell. It was a spell I haven't seen since...long ago."

"I hate having to keep saying this, but what do you mean?" Sophina asked.

"It's time Jon," Marcus cut in suddenly.

Jon glanced at him sharply. "No," he said simply. I can't trust them...

Marcus seemed to know what he was thinking. "These are your companions, like it or not. You can't continue to leave them in the dark. You can't win that way. It's time to trust them with the truth."

"Truth?" Ashford repeated, looking from Jon to Marcus.

Marcus nodded wearily and sat down in the chair by the bed. "The truth behind everything; the history of the Magi and the Magi Victus...and the God."

It was so quiet in the room that Jon could hear Sophina's heart beating rapidly. Has it really come to this? Am I to risk everything again, only to know the bitter taste of betrayal? "There is no going back," he warned Marcus.

Marcus stared sadly back at Jon. "I know."

Jon shook his head, unsure of what to do. "Is this the path I'm supposed to take?"

Marcus looked away. "I don't know...I never saw any of this. I...I wasn't suppose to interfere." He turned back to Jon and smiled humorlessly. "Besides, since when did you care about what path you were on? You never believed in that stuff anyway."

"No, I didn't," Jon agreed quietly. He held Marcus' stare with his own. "But I always believed in you."

Marcus blinked and looked down at his hands. Jon thought he saw a tear drop down onto his lap. "Oh, Jon," Sophina whispered. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Yes...well..." Jon coughed. He hadn't meant to cause this kind of reaction. Feeling highly uncomfortable, Jon diverted the conversation back to safer waters. "I guess I really don't have a choice; I will tell you my history."

"Your history?" Ashford asked, confused. "I thought you were going to tell us the history of the Magi and of the God?"

Jon waved his hand. "I am old enough that my history has become the history of Astuari. They are intertwined."

Sophina sat down on the bed next to Ashford. She curled her legs up beneath her and stared politely at Jon. "How old are you?"

Jon looked over at Marcus, who still was hanging his head. I guess it really is time, Marcus. I hope this leads to something good. He took a deep breath. "My name is Jon d'Thelas san Ronar. I was born nearly 3,000 years ago in what is now the kingdom of Astuari."

Ashford's jaw dropped open. "But...but...Magi don't live nearly that long!" he sputtered.

"I'm not an ordinary Magi. Ashford, do you remember the first night I brought you and Sophina here? How you told us the history of the Magi?"

Ashford nodded, looking extremely confused. "Of course."

Jon looked at Sophina. "Do you remember that story?"

Sophina frowned thoughtfully. "Yes...I recall it. The Magi were founded by the Order of the 12 right? They were called to the Fields of Summer where they spoke to the God."

"Good," Jon replied. "I don't have to go over the beginning of that story again." He took another deep breath and looked at Ashford. "Ash, what I am about to tell you will shake you to your core. You have lived your whole life under the assumption that the history of the Magi is the truth. Well...it's not."

"What do you mean?" Ashford demanded. A shiver of apprehension seemed to pass through him.

"You were lied to. Well, not entirely. The history of the Magi is accurate up to the point where the God called the Order of the 12 to the Fields of Summer. However, the truth branches from there."

Jon saw Sophina grab Ashford's hand and hold it tight. Ashford continued to stare fearfully at Jon. "Go on," he breathed.

"The God gave the Order specific instructions. You were taught that the God forbade the Order from breeding with non-Magi, that the line of his gift was to be kept pure. Otherwise, the offspring of that union would be cursed."

"The Magi Victus," Ashford agreed, nodding.

"That was not what he told them. In fact, that was the opposite of what he instructed them. The God demanded that the Order only breed with non-Magi. He strictly forbade them from breeding with each other."

Ashford stared incredulously at Jon. "But that doesn't make any sense! If we only bred with non-Magi, magic would have died off!"

"The God strictly forbade the Order from breeding with each other; however, once the line of his gift had been diluted by three generations of mixing with non-Magi, then Magi from that generation could marry and bred together, keeping alive the line of his gift."

Ashford shook his head. "Even if that were true, why would he want that?"

"The God's aim was to greatly reduce the power of his gift. He didn't want Magi to rule the world; he wanted them to help guide it."

Ashford continued to shake his head, as though to deny Jon's words. "You're mistaken! It can't be true!"

"Why?" Jon asked quietly.

"Because then there would be no Magi Victus! They are the result of mixing with non-Magi!"

"No, they are not," Jon snapped. The steel in his words made Sophina and Ashford flinch.

Ashford still looked unconvinced. "Why should I believe you? How do I know you are even telling the truth? How do you know all of this?"

Jon stared steadily back at Ashford. "I told you, I was born nearly 3,000 years ago when all of this took place."

Sophina jumped to her feet suddenly. She was staring at Jon with wide, awe-struck eyes. She pointed a shaking finger at him. "You...you're one of the Order of 12!"

A heavy silence fell across the room. Ashford's eyes were nearly popping out of his head. "No, that's impossible!"

Jon looked between Sophina and Ashford for several long moments. They were both holding their breath and staring intensely at him.

Jon smiled and Marcus snorted in amusement from his chair by the bed. Jon struggled to control his smile. Sophina, catching on, blushed in embarrassment. Ashford, however, looked bewildered. "What?" he demanded.

Jon, Sophina, and Marcus roared with laughter. Ashford looked around as though everyone had gone mad. Jon wiped a tear from his eye and struggled to catch his breath. "Sorry...I'm not...one of the Order."

Ashford's cheeks reddened instantly. "You have a weird sense of humor!"

Jon sighed. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time. Sophina, believe me, if I were one of the Order of 12, we wouldn't be having this discussion right now."

"Oh come on, Jon, she was actually pretty close," Marcus chimed in.

That wiped the smiles from Sophina and Ashford. They turned wide-eyes back on Jon. Jon scowled over at Marcus. He shrugged, a smile twitching the corners of his lips.

"Well, who in the nine hells are you?" Ashford demanded.

"You don't recognize my name?" Jon asked. "Jon d'Thelas san Ronar?"

Sophina shook her head immediately. Ashford, however, frowned thoughtfully. "Jon d'Thelas san Ronar..." he repeated. "D'Thelas? Thelas..." He shook his head. "I don't recognize that name. San Ronar...Ronar...Ronar..." He repeated the word to himself, as though trying to recall the taste of a childhood sweet. His eyes suddenly widened in wonder. "No...could it be? Roshard?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 11



"Roshard?" Sophina asked. She frowned at Ashford. "Isn't that the name of--"

"The very first king of Astuari," Ashford finished for her. He stared up at Jon in utter disbelieve. "He was a farmer and the member of the Order of the 12 whom the God decreed would be king, for he was the most faithful. His full name is recorded in our histories: Roshard Ronar."

"Is that true? Are you...the son of the King Roshard?" Sophina asked.

Jon said nothing, but continued to look down at them. After a few tense moments, he reluctantly spoke. "In my time, children were named after both their parents, in honor of their respective families. My mother's family was named Thelas. And...and my father's family was named Ronar. 'D' represented your mother's family and 'San' your father's."

"You didn't answer the question," Ashford said. For some reason, he sounded somewhat angry. "Are you or are you not the son of the first King and member of the Order of 12?"

Jon glanced at Marcus; he nodded. There is no going back now. "Yes."

The word seemed to hang in the air for a long time. Jon looked away from the avid stares coming from Ashford and Sophina. He was forever different in their eyes, he knew. He wished he could have stayed Jon Laurent.

"You are...a King?" Sophina finally managed to say.

"No...that is a title I never held," Jon replied, still looking away.

"Why not?" Sophina asked gently, somehow knowing the issue was a delicate one for him.

Have I become so easy to read? He looked back at her. "Because I was betrayed by somebody I trusted."

"Who?"

"This discussion is over," Jon snapped. He turned and strode toward the door.

Once again, it was Marcus' soft words that stopped him. "Jon, you promised them your history. They need to know everything. This is important, believe me."

Jon turned back around and slumped against the wall. Marcus, with the heavy bags under his eyes, looked just as old as Jon felt at the moment. "Do you ever get the feeling we've lived too long?" he asked Marcus.

Marcus' smile was once again humorless. "All the time."

"Don't tell me the beggar is 3,000 years old, too!" Ashford suddenly burst out angrily.

"Of course not," Jon replied. "He's 50 years younger than I am. He's my little brother, after all."

Ashford's face turned red while Sophina gasped softly.

"Your brother?" she asked incredously, at the same time Ashford barked out, "Very funny! 50 years younger is still nearly 3,000 years old!"

"Why does all this upset you?" Jon asked, choosing to respond to Ashford first.

"It doesn't matter," Ashford mumbled. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, as though he just ate a pufferfish and it wasn't digesting right.

Jon shook his head and looked over at Sophina. "Yes, he is my brother."

"Then he is the son of King Roshard, too? He is also a king?"

"Yes, we share the same father," Jon replied hesitantly. "And no, he was never a king either."

"The same father?" she asked sharply, her keen wit picking up Jon's implied meaning. "You mean you had different mothers?"

Jon nodded. He took a deep breath. "Marcus' mother was a member of the Order of 12. He...is the last living true-born Magi."

He could tell from the blank looks on Ashford and Sophina's faces that they had no clue what he was talking about. "Mother was...he is...true-born Magi?" Ashford asked, looking like he had just been hit over the head with a hammer.

"In order to explain to you what a true-born Magi is, I will have to tell you the history of that time." Jon paused, not quite sure where to begin.

"Start after the Fields of Summer," Marcus offered helpfully.

Jon nodded. "I just told you what the God commanded the Order of the 12. So after that meeting, the fog vanished and the Order came back to the camps. What followed was chaos, as the Order had no idea how their eyes glowed or how every word they spoke was in the language of creation."

"That's what our histories say, too," Ashford interrupted, apparently trying one last time to defend what he was taught.

Jon continued as though he had not interrupted. "It took several weeks for the Order to come to grips with their new power. Once they did, the armies immediately marched. Where once each member of the Order led their own army separately, they were now united."

"At first, the Warlords were surprised that their enemy banded together; to them, it made it a lot easier to wipe them out. Ironically, the fractious and untrusting Warlords were united in the face of such a large army. Unfortunately for them, they didn't realize that banding together made it much easier for our army to wipe them out. With the very first Magi joining the battle, the war was quickly won."

"I already know all of this!" Ashford interrupted impatiently.

"I'm speaking for Sophina's benefit," Jon replied coldly. What is with him?

"Thanks, Master," Sophina said in a brave attempt to lighten the mood.

Jon smiled kindly at her and then continued. "Afterwards, the Order decided to establish the first centralized government Astuari had ever seen. The people were immensely grateful for the war to be over and had no qualms with the Order taking over. So it was that Roshard Ronar was crowned King, as was the God's will. Roshard, who after all was only a farmer, quickly set up the other Order members to serve as his council and as a check on his power."

"Corana Lashon, the Order member who was the mother of two feuding Warlords, was chosen as the first Grand Master. She was instrumental in establishing the very first laws of our country."

"I'm not aware of this," Ashford said slowly. "According to our histories, the Order established the Emporium but never held any positions."

"I already told you that your histories are wrong," Jon replied calmly. "You will understand why shortly. So, now we come to the meat of the matter. The Order were faithful to the God and did as He said. My father already had a wife when he went off to war and was not tempted to mate with any of the Order members. At least, not at first..."

"How many men and women were there in the Order?" Sophina asked.

Jon smiled at the gleam in her eye. She really did love to learn. "There were seven women and five men. Each married a common non-Magi person and had children. I was born two years after the war ended. My generation learned magic from the Order. At this point I should tell you that the Order were now effectively immortal."

"Immortal?" gasped Sophina.

"Yes, they inherited an undiluted power straight from the God. Their magic was..." Jon trailed off, his mind full of ancient memories.

"Was what?" Sophina asked breathlessly. Even Ashford was leaning in eagerly from his seat on the bed.

"You already know," Jon replied quietly. He glanced significantly at Marcus.

Sophina's eyes nearly fell out of her head as comprehension dawned on her. "That was...that glow...the song..."

Ashford looked at her in complete confusion. "What are you talking about? What glow?"

"I will get to that in a minute," Jon replied. "As time went on, my fellow half-breeds began to notice that the Order was becoming...distant. I was the first to suspect that they viewed our abilities with disdain. Nobody believed me at first. But eventually I was proved right."

"What happened?" Sophina asked, her face shining with anticipation.

"Two of the Order left their spouses and families and married."

"They disobeyed the God?" Sophina asked. She looked angry.

Jon nodded sadly. "Yes, eventually they left their families and married. Ironically, the only one who didn't leave was Tria, the former whore. Though, to be honest, that was probably because she was the odd woman out when it came to pairing together."

For some reason, Sophina was looking at Jon sadly. "What?" he asked her.

"Your father...left you and your mother?" she asked in a small, delicate voice.

Jon was embarrassed to feel a lump in his throat. Of all the things that happened to him in his long life, his father leaving was still near the top. "Yes," he croaked. He glanced away from Sophina's sympathetic look and coughed to cover his moment of weakness.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Jon waved it away. "As much as I would like to blame him, it wasn't really his fault. You see, the God warned them what would happen. He told them they would have to make a supreme sacrifice. They all agreed without hesitation. I don't think they truly understood what he was asking of them."

"What sacrifice did he ask?" Ashford asked, intrigued.

Now he's intrigued...what was wrong with him earlier? "He asked them to sacrifice their humanity. Like I said, the fraction of His power that He gave them was undiluted by human blood. And He was right; over time, they slowly began to lose what made them human. The power they wielded was too much. They began to see human beings as weak."

"That's horrible," Sophina said. "Even your father felt this way?"

Jon nodded. "I was only 25 when I can first remember him becoming distant. The only reason I believe he hung around was because some small part of him still loved my mother. But when she died when I was 49, he took off and married Corana. Together, they produced a son. I was left to be raised by the royal nurses."

"You still had to be raised at 49 years old?" Sophina laughed.

Jon chuckled. "I told you I'm 3,000 years old didn't I? The God's gift was only diluted by one generation of human blood. My generation aged very, very slowly. At 50 years old I was barely 5 years old in non-Magi terms. And believe it or not, after we fully matured, we slowed down even more. Right now, I estimate that I have only lived half my years."

"You're pretty much immortal!" Sophina said, her voice echoing with amazement.

"Big deal," Ashford muttered.

Jon glanced sideways at him. He was beginning to think that the history he was revealing was deeply troubling Ashford. "From that point on, there was a new generation of babies; the true-born."

"Oh," Sophina gasped. She turned and looked at Marcus. "That's what Jon meant when he said you were true-born."

Marcus inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I am the last of my kind."

Sophina turned back to Jon. "Why is he the last? The true-born would be just as immortal as their parents, right?"

"The true-born did not have their magic diluted by human blood. So yes, they were immortal. They were born with an innate knowledge of magic, as they were the product of magic and not human blood. The Order were once human but the true-born never had that luxury. They were amazing prodigies; they knew how to precisely pronounce a spell and the exact manipulation needed without needing to study. In short, by the time they were only 5 years old, they could have easily killed me."

"Were they evil?" Ashford asked.

"No, they just lacked humanity. However, for the first 100 years or so we were fine with them, despite our misgivings about the Order disobeying the God. The people of Astuari revered them as much as we did. We were in constant awe of their abilities. In time, several true-born were given some of our highest positions. The country was prospering. There hadn't been a war in over 150 years. Most non-Magi didn't even know what war was."

Jon sighed. "Then things started to change. We began to hear odd rumors of true-born attacking people in remote villages. We dismissed them at first. We just didn't see the signs. The Order was rapidly detaching themselves from our society and disappearing for long periods of time. The true-born began showing signs of rage and impatience."

Jon glanced over at Marcus. "Marcus was beginning to have odd and troubling dreams. Still, we dismissed all of these signs. And then it happened. Several true-born sacked and burned the city of Core. They declared war on us and we didn't even know why."

"Did Marcus join the other true-born?" Sophina asked guiltily, without looking back at Marcus.

"No, not all true-born joined their brethren at first. We didn't realize it at the time, but the true-born were gradually going insane. The power they were born with was never meant for humans. They only wished to unleash their magic and destroy everything. It was an impulse that could not be ignored. It also made them contemptuous of our abilities."

Ashford looked scared as he glanced back at Marcus. Marcus smiled at him. Jon shook his head. "No, Marcus never joined the other true-born. I made a remarkable discovery that saved his life."

"Our first clue that the God was pulling some strings," Marcus said quietly.

Jon shrugged. "I still don't know if my discovery was His doing. Either way, it saved you."

"What was it?" Sophina asked.

"In the Fields of Summer, there grew a small copse of trees. The bark from these trees had a powerful effect on people who could use magic. If your were to grind up the bark and drink it with some water, it would deaden your ability to use the magic. It affected your mental capacity, which is key to a Magi."

Ashford looked over at Marcus. "Is that why you're...you know...mad?"

"Part of it," Marcus muttered, looking down at his hands.

"Anyways," Jon continued, taking the unwanted attention away from Marcus, "Marcus was rendered incapacitated for most of the war--"

"But that didn't stop them from trying to kill me," Marcus said bitterly.

Jon stared sadly at Marcus for a long moment before continuing. "Eventually, the rest of the true-born were driven mad and joined the war against us. Certain members of the Emporium weren't comfortable having Marcus around. It took all of my considerable leverage to spare him."

Jon glanced at Marcus again, who said nothing. He was looking morose as he stared at his hands. "The war was devastating. There were less than ten true-born but they were worth a hundred men easily. They also forced citizens to fight for them. As insane as they were, they still retained their intellect. Every single true-born was a general of an army and they knew how to fight."

"What was their goal?" Sophina asked.

Jon shrugged. "They were insane; who can say? Some thought they wanted to rule over us. Others thought they wanted to wipe out the entire race of humanity. We can never really know. The war lasted 100 years and was called 'The War of the Gods.'"

Jon fell into silence, unsure if he should continue. He knew he had to, though. It was too late to go back. Still, a small part of him screamed out that opening up like this would only lead to more betrayal. He did his best to ignore the voice.

"We eventually won the war. Our numbers were greatly reduced. And to top it all, the Order had vanished for good. We realized we hadn't seen any of them for the last ten years of the war."

"Where did they go?" Sophina asked curiously.

Jon half-glanced at Marcus before continuing. "I don't know. We never found out."

Marcus snorted. Sophina and Ashford looked over at him in surprise. Marcus, however, merely crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing.

He still suspects. Sighing, Jon quickly changed the subject. "With the Order gone, we were left without any real leadership. We gathered together, what remained our generation, and held a meeting. After that night, I would never call myself a Magi again."

Jon paused again. Every time he dwelt on the memory of that night, he was filled with a terrible anger. He didn't if he could relate the events without making his blood boil. But what happened was very important; it determine the course of Astuari for all time. Sophina and Ashford were rapt with attention.

He prepared himself mentally and continued. "The first thing we did was elect our leaders. We chose among ourselves the ten council members and the Grand Master. My...friend," and here he gritted his teeth, "Jocelyn was chosen as the Grand Master."

"Jocelyn d'Ontorio san Tumari was the very first Grand Master!" Ashford said triumphantly. "That's in our histories!"

"Of course she is," Jon whispered. His jaw was locked so tight he was surprised he got the words out. "She made sure the histories started with her. All record of what happened before our generation was erased from memory."

"You sound so angry," Sophina said. "I thought you said she was your friend."

"She was...up until that night," Jon replied ominously. "The newly elected Grand Master and council members were to officially recognize me as king, as it was my bloodline that the God decreed would rule. However, before they could vote, Jocelyn wanted to discuss one issue first. She was concerned about the amount of Magi we had lost during the war. We now numbered under a hundred. Only twenty remained of my more powerful generation."

"So your generation continued to follow the God's orders? You mated only with non-Magi, even though the Order already broke that rule?" Ashford pressed him.

Jon hesitated. "My generation was more...lax with that rule. Plenty of us married non-Magi, yes. Some of us married each other..."

Ashford snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know which way you went," he sneered.

"Ash, what in the nine hells has gotten into you?" Sophina demanded.

Ashford lowered his arms, looking uncomfortable. "Just continue," Ashford said, waving at Jon.

Jon stared at him for several moments before continuing. "Jocelyn was worried about not having the power to stabilize the country. There were already reports of mercenaries looting some towns. She felt that we would stray from the God's plans if we continued to follow his rule. She didn't trust the Order anymore and felt that what the God really said was to dilute his power with one generation of human blood."

"She pointed out that none of us had gone insane. She felt the power was secure enough without diluting it further. She pointed out that our children were weaker than us. Their generation should be preserved. The God's power should not be diluted further or the Magi would one day be too weak to rule the country."

Jon had to stop because his blood was boiling over. He could feel his heart beating in his ears. After so many years, that night still enraged him. She betrayed me! His fingers dug deep into his palm and he breathed roughly through his nose.

"Jon...are you ok?" Sophina asked worriedly.

"Yes," he breathed. He slowly unclenched his fists and forced his anger back down. "Sorry..."

"It's ok," Sophina said, her voice higher than normal. She cleared her throat. "So Jocelyn wanted to go against the God's orders?"

Jon nodded. "I couldn't believe it. I remember sitting there, stunned. What had we just fought a war over? The Order disobeyed the God's orders and look what happened! And here she was, one of my best friends, standing in front of everyone and suggesting that we do the same thing! I never noticed the power-hungry look in her eyes until that night. To this day, I don't know how I missed it."

"How do you know the Order told you the truth about the God's orders?" Ashford demanded rather rudely.

"Because," Jon said, staring coldly at Ashford, "I had faith. The Order had no reason to lie to us. It wasn't until many years later that they changed and became distant and unconcerned with humanity."

"So what happened next?" Sophina asked quickly, before Ashford could retort.

"I stood up, shaking with anger, and chided her for even suggesting it. I knew something was wrong as soon as I started speaking. I could see the council members looking away uncomfortably as I spoke. I knew then that Jocelyn had convinced them before we had even elected them. In fact, nobody in the room shared my opinion."

"Nobody?" Sophina repeated angrily.

"Well...there was only one person who agreed with me: my son."

"Your son?" Sophina gasped. "You have a son?"

"Yes...well, as you can guess, Jocelyn had her way. That was the night when the law that Magi can only mate with other Magi came into effect. I told them I would never allow it. So, they had me arrested."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 11



"No! You were the king!" Sophina looked both angry and shocked.

Jon smiled sadly. "I told you I never held that title. Jocelyn brought up the vote on Magi breeding before the vote for king on purpose. She knew I would never agree. Later on that night, Jocelyn came to see me in my jail cell. She had ten Magi restraining me. She feared my power. She told me that she wasn't entirely against me. She said the council decided that they wouldn't go against all of the God's rules, as a show of faith. So they elected my son as king."

"What was his name?" Ashford asked.

Jon closed his eyes. "King Tomar d'Ashald san Ronar."

"I never heard of him," Ashford replied immediately. "The first recorded King of Astuari was King Jonus Lobare."

"He was my grandson," Jon said quietly. "The council changed his name when he was a baby. I never got the chance to really know him later on in life."

"Why not?" Sophina asked.

"Certain events that followed my imprisonment changed my future and the future of Astuari. My son Tomar went along with Jocelyn's plan and they released me. I was to leave Astuari and never come back. Jocelyn knew I would never live with what they had done and she feared my power. I was to be executed if I ever came back."

"And so you just...left?" Sophina looked shocked. Jon smiled a little at how captured she was by his story.

"Such was my intention. I was furious with Jocelyn, with my fellow Magi, and most of all with the God. I wanted to leave and never look back. My son tried to stop me from leaving. He told me he could hide me. He knew that Jocelyn and the council only made him king because they thought they could manipulate him. He said he needed me to help him and that maybe over time he could gather enough power to make everything right. I wasn't interested. I had enough betrayals to last a lifetime. I was...broken."

"What do you mean?" Sophina asked, confused. "What other betrayals did you experience? Why were you broken?"

"That's not important," Jon said firmly. "I just wanted to be left alone. So I was walking out of the gates of the city when happened. I was...summoned." Jon paused as the memories washed over him. He closed his eyes and experienced it all over again.

Distantly, he heard someone calling his name. "Jon? Are you ok? What do you mean you were summoned? Did your son call you back? Was it Jocelyn?"

Jon opened his eyes and shook his head. "No...it was the God." His voice choked on the last word. The memory was too much. It was still so vivid, even after all these years.

Sophina looked very shocked. She had her hand over her mouth and her eyes stared at him in wonder. Ashford, however, had thrown up his hands. "Just when I was starting to buy your story, against my better judgment, you come along and drop this on us! Do you take us for fools, man? Are you seriously expecting us to believe the God spoke to you?"

"Shut up, Ash!" Sophina suddenly screamed, her face ablaze with anger. "I have never seen anyone as stubborn as you! I'm sorry your precious Guild isn't what you thought it was! Get over it!"

Ashford looked shocked at her outburst. He slowly recovered as she continued to berate him. His face was now just as red as hers. "Why should we believe anything this man says? He is a killer, for God's sake! Listening to this babble, I'm starting to think Evelyn had the right idea!"

Sophina's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "You don't mean that!"

Ashford, to his credit, looked slightly abashed. "Well...no I didn't mean it. But...it can't be true! Or else my life isn't what I thought it was! It can't be true..." Ashford hung his head and stared at his hands.

Sophina and Jon exchanged looks of pity. Jon suddenly knew what was wrong with Ashford. He had lived his life for nearly 200 years believing one thing. Now he was having to confront the fact that his whole life was spent going against the God's wishes. With a pang of guilt, Jon realized he must feel that his life was worthless.

"Ashford," Jon began quietly. Ashford looked up slowly. His face was covered in tears. Sophina put her arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry for putting you through this and I'm sorry for my anger at you earlier. I was careless; I didn't think about your state of mind when I began to tell you my history. I'm so sorry."

Ashford sniffed and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "In all fairness, you did warn me." He tried to smile but his lip quivered and a fresh tear rolled down his cheek. Sophina wiped it away and hugged him. He buried his face into her shoulder. 

"I don't know if I should finish it..." Jon said awkwardly.

"Yes," Ashford muttered, his voice muffled by Sophina's shoulder. He lifted up his head and nodded his thanks to Sophina. She smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. He turned puffy eyes toward Jon. "We need to hear this. I'm sorry for my outburst. Please forgive me."

Jon waved it away. "It's quite alright, believe me. Where was I?"

"The God summoned you," Sophina replied helpfully.

"Right. So I was barely past the gates of Astuari when I fell to my knees, a voice ringing in my ears. I...had never experienced anything like it. I can't explain it. I'm not sure if there was a voice or just a feeling that conveyed words. Whatever it was, I knew it said 'Come to the Fields of Summer.' It wasn't a request. My feet were already walking me in that direction."

"It was a three day walk to the Fields but I remember nothing of it. All I remember is the feeling that the voice left inside of me. It was a consciousness that I couldn't even fathom. The next thing I remember is arriving at the Fields. As soon as I step foot into the Fields, a thick, dense fog surrounded me."

"Just like what happened to the Order!" Sophina said excitedly.

Jon nodded. "I felt...perfect. I don't know how to explain it. All of my worries and concerns were wiped away. I didn't even know what a negative emotion was while standing in the fog. I felt...content and at peace. The God spoke to me then, his voice filling every part of my being. I know that I wept as he spoke to me. I wanted to listen to him forever."

"He blessed me for my unfailing faith and my desire to uphold His wishes. He asked me if I was willing to make any sacrifice in order to save this world from itself. I didn't even hesitate; I agreed right away. He told me that if the Magi were left unchecked that they would quickly destroy this world. He told me...I would have to kill the remaining twenty Magi of my generation."

"No!" Sophina gasped. "He asked you to kill? I don't believe it!"

Jon looked at her sadly. "The God isn't as peaceful as you think, Sophina. He's not against killing when it's done righteously. And to be honest, I knew I should have been revolted by what he asked me to do. But I was so full of anger at my betrayal that I accepted this order without any qualms."

"And that's the sacrifice He asked you to make?" Ashford asked.

"No..." Jon said quietly, absent-mindedly stroking the hilt of his Shadow Dagger. He shook his head. "And so that became my mission. And that...that is the end of my story."

"What?" Sophina and Ashford yelled together.

"Jon," Marcus said warningly.

"The rest doesn't matter," Jon snapped, refusing to meet Marcus' eyes.

"But you left so many things out!" Ashford said angrily. "What more did the God say? How did you become a Magi Victus? What are the Magi Victus? How are you able to pass their test? What is a Shadow Dagger? What happened to your family? Did you kill all those people like the God wanted?"

"Enough!" Jon yelled, his eyes flashing dangerously. Sophina and Ashford instinctively leaned away from him. "You know all you need to know!"

"Finish it, Jon" Marcus said, rising from his chair. Despite his long hair and beard and his ragged clothes, he suddenly looked very dangerous. "You promised."

"Fine!" Jon yelled. He turned his back on the room Is this what you want Marcus? You want me to open these old wounds again? So be it. "What is it you want to know?"

"What are the Magi Victus?" Ashford asked quickly. "How do you keep fooling them?"

Before Jon could open his mouth, Marcus spoke unexpectedly. "Oh come on, I thought you were smarter than that? You were tested in the Emporium by various instructors, were you not?"

"Yes," Ashford said, looking at Marcus in confusion.

"Would your instructor be able to pass the test he gave you?"

"Of course," Ashford snapped. He looked insulted at the implication that he was stupid. "He set the test didn't he?"

Marcus smiled at Ashford. Ashford looked angrily at Marcus before his eyes widened in shock. His face was pale as he turned to look at Jon. "You?"

"Me," Jon nodded. "I created the test. I am the founder of the Magi Victus, after all."

Ashford looked too stunned to speak. Sophina stared at Jon shrewdly. "That was what the God wanted, wasn't it?" she asked. "That's how he wanted the power of the Magi checked."

"My orders were to thin the numbers of the Magi. The God assured me that I would have a group to help me in the near future. I agreed. After the fog lifted, I was not alone. Marcus was standing next to me."

At this, Sophina and Ashford looked over at Marcus. He turned away and sat back down. "I was summoned, too. As you probably already guessed, the God wanted to make me his Oracle, so that I could help guide Jon into saving the world from destruction."

"Wow," Ashford mumbled. The events of the day seemed too much for him to handle.

"So did you do as the God asked?" Sophina asked Jon.

"I did. I returned to Astuari and began to assassinate my fellow Magi. I felt no remorse at the time. I picked them off one by one until they realized what was happening. Their response was not what I was expecting."

"Why, what did they do?"

Jon gripped his Shadow Dagger tight. "Something I didn't think was possible. Fearing that I would eventually regain power, Jocelyn and the council cast a spell that changed the fabric of reality. I always knew that we had the power of creation but I never guessed we could changed reality."

"What do you mean, change reality?" Ashford asked. His eyes shone with interest.

Jon noted that look and filed it away for later. "I thought magic was simply bringing something into existence. I didn't know we could change what already existed They altered the reality that the God created. Their aim, as I later found out, was to ensure that a Magi could never reproduce with a non-Magi. Their spell didn't quite have the effect they wanted."

"So that's how we got the Magi Victus," Ashford breathed. "What power!"

Jon's grip on the Shadow Dagger tightened. "They had no idea they just created the group that the God said would help me on my mission. They created their own enemy. Still, they were happy with the result of the spell. The children born to a Magi and non-Magi parent can't perform magic, even though they have access to it. They thought it would stop me. After all, wouldn't I extinguish magic forever if I killed all the Magi?"

"But that didn't detour you," Sophina said quietly. She looked sadly at Jon.

Jon turned away from her pity. "They didn't know that the God had already ordered me not to kill all the Magi. I was only to limit their numbers. Over time, I gathered all the Magi Victus children and taught them how to harness their power. I taught them the secret of the Shadow Dagger."

Jon saw the light that suddenly gleamed in Ashford's eyes. Jon's grip on his Shadow Dagger was now painful. When he didn't speak for several moments, Ashford said impatiently, "Well? What is the secret?"

Jon looked at Marcus, silently pleading with him not to answer. Marcus must have seen his thoughts on his face because he said, "No, that's important right now."

Ashford looked extremely put-out. He glared angrily at Marcus and Jon before falling into an affronted silence. Jon let out a nervous breath and nodded his thanks to Marcus. He relaxed his grip on the Shadow Dagger.

"So you began the first Magi Victus war, didn't you?" Sophina prompted him.

"Yes. With my growing number of Magi Victus, we easily began to eliminate them. I managed to kill all the Magi of my generation...all save one."

"Jocelyn," Sophina guessed.

Jon nodded wearily. "I forced her to make a treaty. At the time, I thought it was a good idea. She agreed to limit the Magi couples to one child. And in return for her life, she agreed to a lifetime banishment from Astuari.

"So you didn't kill her?" Sophina asked, amazed.

"I couldn't do it," Jon said, his mind far away as he remembered the scene. "She used to be one of my best friends. She was the only person alive that was my link to..." He trailed off, unable to say it aloud. As long as she existed, then there would be another person who remembered Sarah. A part of her would still exist.

"So...since you are still alive, could she be as well?" Sophina asked.

Jon shrugged. "She left 2,500 years ago. I don't think she would be or she would have come back by now."

"And what about your son? What happened to him?"

Jon was careful not to touch his Shadow Dagger. "He died. I would like to leave it there, if you don't mind. He was erased from the histories for the help he gave me. It cost him his life. He left behind a son, whom I never got to know."

Silence filled the room. Sophina had tears brimming in her eyes. Ashford looked down sadly and didn't speak. Jon was stunned to see tears in Marcus' eyes. He turned quickly away from him.

"But after Jocelyn left," Jon continued, breaking the sad silence, " I continued my duty and killed Magi who strayed from our treaty. Eventually, over time, I gave up the power in the Magi Victus to better protect my identity. And I watched it become an assassin's guild rather than what it was suppose to be. I lost faith as more time went on. Why was I still alive? What was my purpose?"

"And now we know," Marcus said, his eyes now dry. "Jon, you conveniently left out the most important part of your conversation with the God."

"I know," Jon sighed. "I just wasn't ready to burden them with that. But I guess we have no choice right?"

"We always have a choice," Marcus said, smiling. "One day you are going to have to believe that."

Jon ignored Marcus and looked at Sophina and Ashford. "I hope you both are ready for what I am about to tell you. Once I tell you, you can never turn back. You are with me until the end. Are you ready?"

Sophina nodded eagerly. Ashford's nod was more subdued. "Yes."

Here we go. "The God told me that one day there would come a person who would either destroy or save the world. This person would be born under the most improbable of circumstances. This person would be a true-born Magi with the humanity that the other true-born lacked. This person can change everything, for good or for bad. I was to await the coming of this person. And now this person is at the mercy of King Reynar."

"Evelyn!" Sophina screamed, standing up in shock.

Jon shook his head. "No...not Evelyn. It's the child she carries in her womb."

***

Chapter 12 - Evelyn meets with Reynar and learns a shocking secret



Shadow Dagger Ch. 12



Note: Just like everyone to know, I'm chugging along just fine. The end is in sight. Starting now, the countdown to Chapter 20 is on! Oh boy, just wait until you see the conclusion for this story!

***

King Reynar Lobare stood silently by his desk, his attention directed solely on the long, thin box on his desk. He reached out with a finger and caressed the plain wooden box. How can something so small hold so much power? He picked up the box reverently. It didn't weigh much. And yet it holds the hopes of the world. Sometimes, I think it weighs too much.

Reynar's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his chamber door. He set the box down carefully before turning. "Enter."

Sereph, Reynar's manservant, closed the door behind him. "She fell fast asleep, my liege, as soon as her head hit the pillow. She didn't even take the time to undress," Sereph added, chuckling.

Reynar nodded. "She has had a trying day. We must go slowly with her, Sereph. I don't want any mistakes."

"My thoughts exactly," Sereph agreed. "To be honest, I was a bit surprised that she came along with you."

"I'm not as surprised. After all, Jon Laurent killed her husband," Reynar added, scowling. "Speaking of which, any news on his whereabouts?"

Reynar could tell from the disgruntled look on Sereph's face that they had no luck. "No, my liege. There seems to be some confusion on that matter. I've had reports that a Magi Victus stumbled back to Sanje, his mind addled by magic. The Magi Victus spoke of a golden man who sang to the body of Jon Laurent and brought him back to life. Really, I think it's nothing more than the ravings of a madman."

Reynar wasn't so sure. If Jon Laurent were truly dead, he would know it somehow. His gut told him that Jon Laurent might indeed have survived. "Nonetheless, have search parties continue to sweep the city. I will rest better when I know the fate of Jon Laurent."

Reynar sighed and ran his hands through his dark hair. There were too many things for him to take care of at this very moment. I guess that's the burden of a king.

"My liege," Sereph said, breaking into Reynar's thoughts. "Raynolt was given specific orders to have Jon Laurent taken alive, wasn't he? From my reports, it seems like he tried very hard to kill him."

Reynar snorted. "Of course he tried to kill him. That man won't rest until he thwarts my plans. Still, I think a reminder is in order. Have him summoned to me in the morning."

"Yes, of course, my liege," Sereph replied, bowing. However, he made no move to the door.

Reynar eyed him wearily. "Is there something else?"

Sereph looked deeply uncomfortable. "My liege...people are talking...about what happened today with Ashford Caulston." He glanced nervously at Reynar's face before shifting his gaze away.

"Out with it already!" Reynar replied, exasperated.

Sereph bowed. "Sorry, my liege. It's just...a lot of things happened in the square today. A lot of Magi heard Ashford's accusation that Raynolt was trying to kill you. Then there was the issue with you...er...almost killing one of your childhood friends. And, to top it all off, that woman Sophina Crews shows up with that remarkable sword."

Reynar sighed, suddenly feeling his 200 years of life. He leaned back against the table and rubbed his eyes. "Ok, don't just summon Raynolt tomorrow morning; summon the entire council. I will smooth out the issue about Raynolt's assassination accusation." 

"What are you going to tell them?"

Reynar tried to concentrate past the pounding in the back of his head. "I'm going to kill two birds with one stone. I'm going to issue an arrest warrant for Ashford to make it look like he was the one who went rogue. That should take care of his accusation about Raynolt as well as the reason I almost killed him. As for Sophina Crews...put out an arrest warrant for her as well."

"What's the charge?" Sereph asked as he walked past Reynar. He took out some parchment from the desk and dipped a quill in ink.

Reynar rubbed his eyes harder. His headache was really starting to pick up speed. "The charge is theft of a powerful Magi artifact. Ashford, her Magi accomplice, helped her steal it from the palace. It's a sword passed down from the line of Lobare. It should hold up reasonably well."

"Very my good, my liege," Sereph said, his quill scratching across the parchment with great speed. 

"Make sure you schedule the council meeting for early in the morning, before sunrise," Reynar added. "Then arrange breakfast for two in my private dining room. Escort Evelyn there once she awakes."

"I will make all the arrangements," Sereph replied, making one last flick on the parchment. He put the quill back in the ink jar and rolled up the parchment. He bowed low to Reynar and made his way to the door. He pulled open the door and then stopped. "My liege, I had never seen you so angry," Sereph said quietly, without turning around.

The pain in Reynar's head was almost intolerable. He pinched his eyes shut with his fingers. "I know," he replied, his teeth gritted. "Ashford's accusation that our friends are dead because of me stung me harder than I thought."

"Would you really have killed him, your childhood friend?" Sereph's asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He still stood with his hand on the door.

"I don't know," Reynar replied honestly. A particularly nasty throb in his head made him wince in pain. He didn't want to think about that. Damn you, Ashford, for making me do this!

"Don't let the burden you bear crush you, or you will become that which you are trying to prevent," Sereph said cryptically. He closed the door quietly behind him.

Reynar dropped to his knees as soon as the door closed, hunched over in pain. He used too much magic today. He never expected Jon Laurent to be capable of mathematical magic. He had to react as fast as he could to fling up that shield over Raynolt in time. That type of complex magic was too much for him in his current state. He wasn't Jon Laurent.

He raised his head shakily, staring with pain-filled eyes at his desk. At the plain wooden box that sat upon it. Soon, I will be powerful enough to stop Jon Laurent. I will be powerful enough to save the world.

***

It seemed like Raynolt had barely closed his eyes when somebody started pounding on his door. "What?" he shouted in annoyance. He swung his feet over his bed and rubbed his eyes.

"Grand Master, King Reynar has summoned the council for a meeting," a voice shouted from behind the door.

"When?"

"In one hour, Grand Master." He heard loud footsteps as the man walked away, apparently in a hurry to summon the other council members.

"What is Reynar doing, summoning us so early?" Raynolt muttered. He went to bed only a couple of hours ago. I have a bad feeling I'm not going to get much rest during this war.

He had just relieved himself in his chamber pot when there came another knock on his door. "What?"

"It's Lenard, Grand Master."

"Come in, come in," Raynolt sighed. He pulled off his sleeping gown and tossed it aside.

Lenard shut the door softly behind him. "Did you get the summons?"

Raynolt put on a clean set of undergarments before responding. "Yeah, I got the summons." He turned around and stared at Lenard in annoyance. "You're already dressed? Don't you ever sleep?"

"I've been tending to our dead," he replied quietly.

Raynolt opened the doors on his dresser and rummaged through his robes. He pulled out a black robe with silver lining and held it out at arms length. It was a good color for today's business. "That's a pity," he finally said, pulling the robe over his head. When his head popped out of the top of the robe, he saw a quick look of contempt cross Lenard's face. "Is there a problem?"

Lenard hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I follow you because of the help you gave me and for your plans for the future of the Magi. Still, I can't pretend to like your callousness and blatant disregard for the lives of others." He closed his mouth shut, apparently afraid of saying more.

Lenard's observation stung Raynolt more than he thought possible. "Tell that to my parents!" Raynolt snapped, before he even knew what he was saying. "It's the Grand Master's prerogative to disregard the lives of the Magi as much as he sees fit! Why else would you send Magi to a war who had no business being there! They were researchers, for God's sake!" Raynolt's voice broke at the end. He turned away and busied himself by slowly pulling up his boots.

The silence was agonizing. Raynolt waited for Lenard to say something to break the tension but the man was silent. Raynolt finished dressing without once looking directly at Lenard. "Let's go," Raynolt muttered, motioning to the door.

Lenard bowed slightly and opened the door for him. Raynolt took heart at the sign of respect. He walked down the hallway feeling slightly better.

"Forgive me," Lenard finally said, as they walked along the path out of the Emporium.

Raynolt felt strangely mollified by his apology. He was right, after all. Raynolt wouldn't deny that he was callous when it came to the well-being of other people. "I will...try to be more considerate from now." If he was in a good mood, that was. He was smart enough not to say that aloud.

They walked up to the magnificent front gates of the Emporium, which was lit up with Mage-light this early in the morning. Their carriage was already waiting for them. Raynolt nodded to the remaining council members, minus the sadly departed Safra Howe and Morgana, as they climbed up into their own carriages.

Lenard joined him in his carriage and was silent for a few moments as the carriage jerked forward. He leaned forward intently. "So, any word from Jachal?"

Raynolt grimaced. "No," he admitted grudgingly. "I suspect he, Krysia, and Gero are all dead." It had been a particularly frustrating night for Raynolt. The day had not gone at all as he hoped. Well, except for his murder of Morgana.

Lenard leaned back in his seat and stared thoughtfully out of the small window. "That woman carried an impressive sword. Do you think she managed to finish off all of them?"

"Who knows?" Raynolt said, shrugging. "I will have people check the clinics but I doubt we'll find anything."

Lenard frowned and stayed silent. "What?" Raynolt asked, annoyed by his reticence.

"I don't know...Jachal must have seen how good that woman was with that sword. I don't think he would be foolish enough to engage her directly."

"So you think they might still be alive?" Raynolt asked, his eyebrow raised in surprise.

Lenard grunted. "Hardly. No, I very much think they're dead. I just don't think Sophina Crews killed them."

"Then who?" Raynolt snapped impatiently. Can this man ever get to the point?

Lenard eyed him carefully before speaking. "Jon Laurent."

Raynolt felt his face flush with anger. "Nobody knows we lost his body."

Lenard shrugged. "A few people know anyways," he added delicately.

Raynolt pounded his thigh with a tight fist. "Damn! People just can't keep their mouths shut! I suppose I'm a laughing stock now, eh?"

"People know better than to laugh at you," Lenard replied carefully. "Besides, I don't think many people know. I just happen to keep my ears open, which is the job you gave me."

"Jon Laurent," Raynolt huffed, turning his head to stare out the window as though by saying his name he would suddenly appear. "That man just doesn't know how to die. He's made some powerful friends, evidently. If he really is alive, that is."

"So you haven't discovered anything about this 'golden man'?" Lenard asked eagerly.

Raynolt rubbed his eyes wearily. "I still have people searching. But all we have to go on is the ramblings of a madman. I will sooner find Jon Laurent waiting in my bed than of finding this 'golden man.'"

They rode silently for several minutes. Raynolt's mind was filled with images of Jon Laurent lying dead at his feet. "So, what do you think this meeting is about?" Lenard asked, cutting into Raynolt's wonderful daydream.

"With Reynar, there's no telling. God, how I hate that man. I hope we find a way to kill him soon."

"With Ashford's sudden appearance, I thought we had a good chance," Lenard said musingly. "But then everything went awry, not the least of which was the loss of Morgana. I can't believe the Magi Victus got to her."

Raynolt studied Lenard intently. There was something about his tone of voice...could he possibly know? God, I'm becoming too paranoid. The spy is dead. I need to start putting more trust in Lenard. "A pity," Raynolt agreed. "She was a very good healer. Her talent will be missed in the months to come."

Lenard looked like he was about to say something but instead he looked out the window again. "We're almost there."

A few minutes later, the carriage rocked to a halt. A servant opened the door and helped Lenard and Raynolt out. The rest of the council huddled together by the door that led into the palace. Each council member glanced at him warily before looking away. Once Raynolt passed them, they dropped in behind him. What was that about?

Surprisingly, Reynar was already waiting for them in the council chambers. Raynolt was happy to see that Reynar looked just as tired as Raynolt felt. He had dark shadows under eyes, which was saying something as his skin was already dark.

"Please be seated," Reynar said, gesturing to the empty seats below him. Raynolt took his customary seat on the dais next to Reynar.

"I know you all must be wondering why I have called this meeting so urgently," Reynar started. "It is my wish to quickly put to bed an issue that has arisen from the battle yesterday. Grand Master Teryus," Reynar gestured to Raynolt on his right, "has never tried to assassinate me."

The council members shifted uncomfortably and muttered a few inaudible words. Raynolt stared down at them angrily. What's this? Who betrayed me? Raynolt shifted his murderous glare over to Lenard. Lenard shook his head slightly. Raynolt grimaced and turned toward Reynar. "What is this? Who has accused me of trying to assassinate you?"

Reynar turned his head slightly and gave him a warning look. "Ashford Caulston yelled some accusations as he confronted me."

Raynolt gritted his teeth furiously. He glared down at Lenard. Damn you, Lenard! Why wasn't I informed of this? Slipped you mind?

"It's my deepest regret to inform you that my childhood friend, Ashford Caulston, has betrayed the Magi and has allied himself with Jon Laurent," Reynar finished.

The councilors muttered among themselves at this. Raynolt could see that a few of them still looked disbelieving. "Why would he do that?" asked Sura Montero, the 9th Tier Master. Ashford Caulston was in her Tier, Raynolt suddenly remembered. They might have been friends.

"Power," Reynar replied sadly, spreading his hands and shrugging. He sighed deeply. "I have known Ashford since we were children. I chose to ignore the obvious signs of the power-hunger I saw in his eyes. Ashford believes that the Magi Victus will triumph, so he figures he might as well be on the winning side. That way, they can set him up as Grand Master."

Several councilors shook their head in amazement. Sura, Raynolt noted, looked unconvinced. Yes, they must have been friends. Still, she can't go against Reynar's word. Weston Dorne, 4th Tier Master, stood up. "My liege, what about that guardswoman who wielded that sword that can cut through magic? I have never seen such a magnificent weapon."

"I've already issued an arrest warrant for Sophina Crews. Ashford came to visit me in the palace before the battle yesterday. He had the woman, disguised as one of my personal guards, steal that sword from my personal collection while I was distracted by Ashford. That sword is an heirloom of the Lobare dynasty. Ashford knew about it because I showed it to him as a child."

Raynolt silently applauded Reynar. The man was a master of deception; he had to give him that. Still, he needed to die.

"I never knew," Weston said, awed. "I can see why that sword was kept secret. It's almost as bad as a Shadow Dagger."

"Yes it is," Reynar said quietly, his eyes staring at nothing. He shook his head slightly, as though he was fighting off some kind of impulse. "Now that we have settled this issue, this meeting is adjourned. With the unfortunate passing of Safra Howe and Morgana Rosewood, we once again have some openings on the council. I suspect the council will see those positions filled soon?" Reynar asked, giving the council a stern look.

They quickly assured him that the positions would be filled right away. Satisfied, Reynar swept from the room. Raynolt frowned over at him as he walked out. He seemed like was anxious to leave, as though he had a pressing appointment to attend to.

The council quickly dispersed after the meeting. Raynolt was surprised to see Lenard hurry off, but then he remembered that everyone was now extremely busy with the war. As Raynolt walked back to his carriage, a thought suddenly struck him. In all the chaos of the past day, he completely forgot about the mysterious reappearance of Evelyn Ventus.

I wonder what Reynar wants with her. Raynolt didn't feel completely comfortable with the fact that she was still alive. He knew she would blame him for Daminus' death. Wasn't she insane with grief from the loss of her soul-mate? She could be very dangerous to his plans.

Sitting back in his carriage, Raynolt tapped his lips thoughtfully. She had to die; there was no question about that. But before she did, Raynolt decided he would like to have a talk with her first.

***

Evelyn opened her eyes as the first ray of sunshine broke free of the horizon and shone through the window. It took her a few moments to remember where she was. She was glad to see that her robes were still on and that nobody had undressed her. She had been too exhausted to bother undressing.

At that thought, the memories of the day before came flooding back. She still felt nauseous every time she thought about her decision. The pain and hurt she saw in Sophina's eyes cut her like a knife. She had come to deeply care about that woman in the brief time she had known her. She would never forget how she rescued her from being raped by her former Tier master, Darrius Northwood. And she knew Sophina had cared for her during her coma.

Still, the thought of being in the company of Jon Laurent was unbearable. She knew Jon was just the knife that Raynolt used to kill Daminus, but that didn't mean she could ever forgive him. She just didn't trust him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Yes?" she called hesitantly.

The door creak open and a servant poke her head around the door. "My lady, would you like us to bring up some hot water for your bath?"

"Oh yes, please," Evelyn replied happily. She could really use a nice, hot soak right now.

The servant turned around and clapped her hands. Immediately, servants walked into the room in a long line, carrying buckets of steaming water. Evelyn stood, dumbfounded, by their quick efficiency. Soon, the bathroom that adjourned her bedroom was cloudy with steam. 

As the last servant hulled his bucket away, the original female servant bowed low. "Would the lady require my assistance?"

Evelyn waved her away. "No, I'm fine. I've been bathing myself for many years now."

Even felt guilty about her joke when she saw the servant blush. "My lady, I didn't mean to insult you." Evelyn was even more horrified when she dropped to the ground and prostrated herself at Evelyn's feet. "Do you wish me punished, my lady?"

Evelyn quickly bent down and forced her up. "Certainly not! You did nothing wrong. Please...go about your business."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 12



The woman bowed low and left the room, her face red with shame. Evelyn shook her head. She had forgotten what it was like to have servants. She put her out of her mind and undressed quickly. She eased herself into the large tub and sighed with pleasure. The water was perfumed wonderfully with the scent of wildflowers.

She had barely settled in when there came another knock at the door. "Yes?" Evelyn called from the bathroom, now somewhat irritated.

"Are you decent, my lady?" called a male voice.

Evelyn checked that her body was invisible underneath the water before responding. "Yes, please come in."

A man walked hesitantly into the bathroom. He was tall, with tan skin, dark brown hair and matching eyes. He wore a dark blue coat with matching trousers. He looked somewhat familiar. "Can I help you?" she asked curiously.

The man bowed low. "My lady, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Sereph, personal manservant to King Reynar Lobare."

Evelyn was unsure how to respond, seeing how she was neck deep in water. So she settled on inclining her head respectfully. "Do you carry word from the king?"

"I do, my lady. King Reynar would be honored if you were to join him for breakfast at your earliest convenience. He is most anxious to speak with you."

"As am I," Evelyn replied firmly. It was past time she had some answers. "Please inform King Reynar that I will join him shortly."

"Of course, my lady. You will find a wide selection of robes in the wardrobe in your room. I took the liberty of raiding the finest robe shop in all of Astuari. The proprietor there assures me that you have graced him before and that the robes will fit you perfectly."

Evelyn inclined her head again and favored him with a warm smile. It felt good to smile again. "I thank you very much. You are a very kind man."

He bowed very low. "You honor me, my lady. Please, enjoy your bath." And with that, he withdrew from the room.

Evelyn sighed in resignation and rose from the bath. The water cascaded down her body and back into the bathtub. She shivered in the cool air and hurriedly grabbed a towel from the table next to the large tub.

Evelyn discovered that Sereph wasn't lying about bringing the best robes. She had trouble picking her favorite one from the wardrobe in her bedroom. Finally, she settled on a blue robe that reminded her of Daminus' eyes. She felt a small stab of pain in her heart as she remembered those eyes twinkling whenever he laughed.

She sat down on the bed and buried her face in the robe. She clenched her teeth and fought back the wave of grief that threatened to sweep her off again. Get it together, Evelyn! I'm supposed to be avenging him, not falling apart!

She took several deep breaths and felt the grief recede back down. Was her whole life going to be like this? She wiped her eyes and dressed quickly. She gave her short blonde hair a few quick swipes with a comb before departing the room. The female servant from earlier was waiting outside.

"My lady, I am to escort you to King Reynar's private dining room. Could you follow me, please?"

Evelyn nodded and followed the servant's brisk strides. She was evidently in the living quarters of the palace because she saw many well-dressed people leaving rooms with their own servants. The hallways were long and wide and filled with all manner of items. Even in her grief, Evelyn could admire the beauty of the portraits they passed and the tall vases of delicate clay. Tall windows let in huge rays of sunshine. Several smaller windows were open to tempt in a cool morning breeze.

After a few minutes, and several more long hallways, Evelyn sped up to walk next to the servant. "What's your name?" she asked kindly.

The servant blushed furiously. "Evelyn," she replied timidly.

Evelyn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What are the odds of that?"

"Not as bad as you think," the other Evelyn replied. "You are a hero to the women here in Astuari. There are a lot of women with your name."

Evelyn didn't know what to say. She was simply flabbergasted. I really need to get out of the Emporium more! "I'm a hero?" Evelyn asked, amazed.

The other Evelyn turned to her with wide eyes. "Oh yes! Your exploits are well known! Most women are nursed at their mother's breasts with stories of you ringing in their ears. You're an inspiration, didn't you know that?"

"I had no idea," Evelyn replied quietly.

The other Evelyn continued to stare at her in amazement, almost knocking over a vase as they continued to walk through the palace. "Women think that naming their daughter 'Evelyn' will give them a better future. After all, we women aren't exactly respected, you know?"

"But the women Magi are highly respected!" Evelyn replied, shocked.

The other Evelyn shook her head sadly. "I hope you don't mind me saying, my lady, but I sometimes think that the Magi live in a different world. Do you really not know what goes on outside the walls of the Emporium?"

Before Evelyn could respond, the woman had stopped by a door. "We're here," she said quietly, gesturing to the door.

"Evelyn..." Evelyn began, but the other woman had already opened the door.

"My liege, may I present the Magi Evelyn Ventus."

Evelyn stepped around the woman and into a small but cozy dining room. She spotted King Reynar seated at a small table and immediately dropped into a curtsy. "My liege."

"Thank you," Reynar said, dismissing the servant. She gave Evelyn a quick glance before backing out the door. "Please, my dear Evelyn, there's no need for such formalities. Please sit and enjoy this lovely breakfast."

Evelyn took her seat and nervously smoothed her robe with her hands. Other than the bizarre events the day before, this was the first time she ever had any personal contact with the king. It felt good to be nervous; it made her grief disappear for a moment.

"How are you?" he asked kindly. His tone was sincere.

"I'm fine," Evelyn lied. "There's been a lot to take in but I think I'm adjusting."

Reynar looked like he didn't quite believe but politely let it go. "I'm glad to hear that. I hope your room was comfortable enough for you."

"It was very nice, thank you."

An awkward silence rose up between them. Reynar gestured at food spread out on the table. "I know you must be hungry. Please, help yourself."

Evelyn grabbed a small bowl of fruit. She bit into a delicious strawberry. Reynar was smiling at her. "Here, try that strawberry with this cream," he said, handing her a bowl containing a white cream. Evelyn dipped her strawberry hesitantly into the dip and slowly took a bite. The taste nearly toppled her off her chair. Her eyes widened in pleasure.

"Good, yes?" Reynar asked, dipping a strawberry into his own bowl of cream. He bit into his strawberry slowly, his eyes closed in pleasure. He chewed it as long as he could before swallowing.

Evelyn felt a true smile light up her face for the first time since Daminus' death. Reynar and she acted like children as they dared each other to try different fruits with the cream. Evelyn found herself laughing easily as she quickly finished her bowl of fruit.

Reynar grabbed a bottle of wine from the table. He uncovered a basket of grapes and nodded at them. "See these grapes? They come from the vineyard outside of Wuton. Have you ever had the pleasure of tasting the wine that comes from that vineyard?"

Evelyn shook her head. "I don't believe I have."

"Then you haven't lived!" Reynar exclaimed, the light in his eyes dancing mischievously. He grabbed a dark purple grape from the basket and handed it to Evelyn. "Try it."

Evelyn popped the grape in her mouth and bit down. Immediately, a flood of juice filled her mouth. It was the most delicious grape she had ever eaten. Reynar was watching her reaction eagerly. "I love it!" Evelyn cried happily.

Reynar beamed. "Now try this," he said, pouring the wine into an empty glass. He handed it to Evelyn.

Evelyn didn't know if she could handle any more flavors this morning. Everything had tasted so delicious. However, as soon as the liquid hit her tongue, she knew everything else had paled in comparison. The wine filled her with heat as it traveled down her throat. "What is this?" she asked in amazement.

Reynar's face was lit up with pride. "I've had a few Magi working down at that vineyard for a few years now. With the power of creation at our fingertips, why not create the best wine in the world?"

Evelyn laughed. "What fine use you have put to the Magi! Perhaps we could bribe the Magi Victus with this wine."

A cloud seemed to descend over Reynar's face at the mention of the war. An uncomfortable silence stole of the joy the discussion of the wine had created. Evelyn glanced down at her hands. "How was bad was yesterday?" she asked quietly.

Reynar sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Bad. We lost over thirty Magi, including two Masters."

Evelyn felt tears gather in her eyes. Undoubtedly, she knew many of the Magi who were killed. She didn't want to think about it. "It's not going to be easy, is it?"

Reynar shook his head sadly. "We knew that from the beginning. But on the bright side, we won't lose so many Magi on one day. Not unless the Magi Victus decide to attack us in force. But that would be to our advantage, not theirs."

Evelyn didn't know what to say. Too many things had happened in her life in too short of a time. She felt lost. Reynar seemed to sense something of her thoughts. "It's going to work out, you'll see. The Magi will be better for it in the end."

"I hope so," Evelyn muttered.

Reynar leaned forward on the table and clasped his hands together. "Let's not beat around the bush anymore, Evelyn. I know you're dying to discuss the offer I gave to you yesterday. What's your first question?"

"What in the nine hells is going on?" Evelyn asked desperately. "You attacked Ashford, who was supposed to be one of your best friends, and then you tell me that I'm special!"

Reynar stared at her for such a long time she thought he was never going to answer. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "It's time I told you everything. Unlike Jon Laurent, I'm not going to keep any secrets from you. Are you ready for this? It will alter everything you thought you knew. You might have trouble accepting it."

"I'm ready," Evelyn replied immediately. She was tired of being kept in the dark.

Reynar nodded gravely. "Very well. But before I can tell you why you are special, I need to tell you the history of this world. The true history," he added pointedly, "and not the history you were taught in the Emporium. I'm going to tell you why Jon Laurent needs to die before he can destroy the world."

Evelyn leaned in eagerly to hear his story.

***

"Her...child?" Sophina asked, dumbfounded.

Jon nodded. "I had my suspicions when I first found out that they were soul-mates. It was after talking to you, Ashford," and here he nodded over at Ashford, "about their bond gifts that I truly began to believe."

Sophina couldn't believe her ears. Her beloved Evelyn...was pregnant? "Jon, how do you know this? And what does their soul-bond have to do with it?" Sophina asked, her mind still reeling.

"Well, I was sort of expecting this. Remember the prophecy the God told me? What do you think I have been doing all this time? I've been waiting for this child. It's been so long that I began to lose faith. So when Marcus told me she was the one...I believed him."

The room was silent as everyone digested this new information. Ashford spoke hesitantly. "You said you knew after talking to me...but I told you they never knew what his bond gift was!"

"Exactly," Jon said, as if Ashford had just proved his point. "I have an educated guess about what happened. I'm willing to bet that Daminus and Evelyn made love earlier that day or at most the day before. So his seed was still inside of Evelyn."

"Yes...but Magi women use a spell that stops them from conceiving," Ashford pointed out patiently.

"Oh, this was no ordinary conception," Jon replied. "This child is suppose to be unique, remember? No, what I think happen was that Daminus, in the last few seconds of his life, suddenly knew what his bond gift was."

"What?" Sophina whispered, her hands trembling in her lap.

"I believe that Daminus used the soul-bond to transfer his soul over to impregnate Evelyn."

***

Evelyn sat back in her chair, her head shaking wildly. "No, it doesn't make any sense! True-born Magi? Jon Laurent is the son of King Roshard?"

"I'm sorry to break it to you like this," Reynar said delicately. "I know it's a lot to take in."

Evelyn rubbed her temple with her hands. "So you're saying that the God ordered the Order of 12 to mate with non-Magi?"

Reynar nodded. "It was only to be for the next generation. The God never meant the Order to rule over Astuari. He wanted non-Magi blood to dilute his incredible power. But He only required the Order to do this. Their children were prohibited from mating with non-Magi, as that would further dilute his gift to the point that we would lose power and this country would fall into darkness once more."

Evelyn tried her best to soak all this in. Her brain seemed to be full at the moment. "So...what does this mean? How is the world in danger of destruction? And what do I have to do with this?"

Reynar replied slowly, apparently choosing each word carefully. "I told you how we fought against the true-born. By all accounts, it was a long and bloody war. The Magi order was almost destroyed." He leaned forward suddenly, staring at Evelyn intently. "The war may not have been so devastating if the Magi hadn't been betrayed. One of their own joined the side of the true-born."

"Jon Laurent," Evelyn whispered. It was starting to make sense.

Reynar grunted. "Yes, it was Jon Laurent. Though at that time, he was named Jon d'Thelas san Ronar. He was the High Prince and yet he turned his back on the Magi and the God."

"Why?"

"Because Jon Laurent had a true-born brother. They were very close as children. Apparently, he was very envious of his brother's power. He worshipped the true-born like they were gods. He chose his brother and his lust for power over everything else. He knew it was wrong and that it could have brought the destruction of the world. It didn't stop him."

Evelyn examined everything he had told her, trying to find a pattern. Try as she might, she still couldn't see one. "But it's been over 3,000 years now. The true-born are dead. How can he bring about the destruction of the world now?"

"Ah," Reynar said slowly, leaning back in his chair. "That question brings us back to why you are here. There's no easy way to say this, Evelyn, so I'm just going to say it. Jon Laurent can destroy the world because of you." 

"Because of me?" Evelyn sputtered, outraged. "What in the nine hells does that mean?"

Reynar looked down at his hands for several moments before slowly raising his head. "What did you feel the night Daminus died?"

"What?" Evelyn said, taken aback. Her heart fluttered in her chest. "What does that have to do with this discussion."

"Everything," Reynar replied solemnly. "Please, Evelyn, everything will be explained shortly. What did you feel that night?" Reynar leaned toward her, an eager look on his face.

"What did I feel?" Evelyn repeated. She felt an icy knife slide into her heart. I can't think about that night! I can't! She shook her head furiously.

"Please, Evelyn," Reynar begged, his voice full of passion. "Be strong...for Daminus."

"I felt my heart torn out!" Evelyn screamed, her eyes filling with tears. "I felt the end of the world!"

Reynar looked at her with such pity that Evelyn turned her head away. She dabbed at her eyes angrily with the sleeve of her robe. How dare that man make me dredge up memories of that awful night!

"Evelyn," Reynar pleaded, his voice so full of pain and sympathy that Evelyn looked around at him in astonishment. "The whole world is at stake. I need to save it, Evelyn. This is why I was born! Only I can do it. But I need to know what happened that night. What did you feel along your soul-bond?"

Evelyn stared at him in wonder. How did he know something happened? "It pulsed...with a power I had never felt from it," Evelyn gasped, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Reynar sat back in his chair. His face sagged with relief. He wiped a hand across his forehead. "She was right," he muttered.

"Who was right? And right about what?"

Reynar breathed out slowly. "Do you know what the problem was with the true-born? They were a product of pure magic. They never had an ounce of humanity in them. That's what drove them mad in the end."

"So?" Evelyn asked, starting to get annoyed. She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve again. She needed to be strong.

"Imagine then, what would it have been like if the true-born had possessed humanity? They could have changed the world in a way we couldn't imagine in our wildest dreams! The world right now is a pale comparison to the world that could have been."

Evelyn sighed, suddenly wearied beyond her endurance. "I still don't understand what you're getting at."

"I know it's frustrating," Reynar said. "I had to explain all of this first before I told you about why you are here. Evelyn, that surge you felt along the soul-bond as Daminus died was his bond gift!"

"We never knew what his bond gift was," Evelyn corrected him.

"But I know what it was," Reynar said, smiling. "He transferred a part of his soul over to you."

Evelyn stared at him in disbelief. "I think I would know if my soul-mate transferred his soul into me!

"Really? Then where did your strange new power come from, I wonder?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to rebut him but closed it before she could. What was that power she felt doing the fight yesterday? She performed magic that was beyond her grasp. "I don't know," she admitted. "But Daminus' soul? I would feel it right now if it were in me."

"It's not in you the way you think," Reynar replied. "If you don't mind me asking, did you make love to Daminus on the day of his death?"

Evelyn gaped open-mouthed at him. "I hardly see how that's your business!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Reynar said, chuckling. "You had his seed in you that night. Daminus soul came over from the soul-bond and quickened the seed in your womb. Evelyn, you're pregnant."

Evelyn collapsed out of her chair. She heard somebody calling her name. She felt hands slapping her face softly. Her eyes fluttered open. Reynar was kneeling over her, looking very concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked urgently.

"Sorry," Evelyn muttered, embarrassed. "For a minute there, I thought you said I was pregnant!"

"I did," Reynar said, helping her back up to her feet.

Evelyn sat back down and sighed gratefully. Then it hit her. Her eyes bulged in shock. "You did?"

"Yes."

"But...but I used a spell to prevent pregnancy! We can't have a child until we get permission!"

Reynar chuckled. "Under the circumstances, I think I will wave that requirement."

Evelyn shook her head. "If I was pregnant, I would have noticed by now! It's been over a month!"

Reynar grimaced. "About that...your pregnancy is exactly normal."

"Why not?" Evelyn asked, clutching her stomach. She looked down in surprise. Evidently, her mind already decided she was pregnant.

"Well...you're pregnant with a true-born Magi."

***

"But they aren't true-born Magi!" Sophina gasped. "How could they have a true-born baby?"

Jon frowned. "I'm not an expert, so it will be up to you to decide. But I think that since Daminus was a Magi, his act of crossing over the soul-bond was magical in nature. His soul, or his essence, was now completely magical, as he no longer had his body. He used his seed, which contained his humanity, to impregnate Evelyn. The combination of his purely magical soul and his human seed, and in combination with Evelyn's magical soul and humanity, has produced a true-born Magi that will have humanity as well."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 12



Sophina looked over at Ashford, who looked just as stunned as she did. Sophina instinctively knew that Jon had it right. Evelyn was pregnant with a true-born Magi that wouldn't go mad. "Unbelievable," was all she could say.

"I'll second that," Ashford breathed.

"So now you know everything I do," Jon informed them. "Evelyn's child will have dual natures and dual destinies; destroy the world or save it. It's up to us to ensure the child chooses right."

"I wonder," Marcus said, speaking for the first time in awhile, "what does Reynar want with Evelyn? How would he even know about her child?"

They all looked over at Ashford. Ashford appeared to consider the question before answering. "I'm sorry everyone, but I just don't know."

Jon snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. Marcus, however, suddenly stood up and began pacing the room. "Ashford, tell us Reynar's history. From the beginning please. And keep it short."

Ashford looked taken aback by being ordered by a beggar. He must have realized who Marcus really was because he swallowed before speaking. "Reynar was born to King Roland Lobare and Queen Maryn of Raves."

Sophina gasped. "King Reynar's mom was from Raves?"

Ashford nodded. "It wasn't widely spoken of because of our history with Raves. At that time, King Roland was at war with Raves. Tired of fighting, King Roland reached a compromise with the desert people. He agreed to take a bride from one of their tribes. The warriors of Raves were appeased, for now their blood would run through the line of Lobare. Didn't you ever wonder why Reynar was so dark?"

Sophina shrugged. "I never really got to see him in person."

"The desert people stopped attacking our outlying cities. They even started trading with us. They sold us extraordinary items from the merchants of that mysterious country that lies past the desert. Our two countries were finally at peace."

"But I fought them!" Sophina said. "We just won the War of the Desert not too long ago."

"We didn't win, Sophina," Ashford corrected her quietly. "We came to another agreement with them. But the reason why the first peace was broken was because of the murder of Queen Maryn."

"I never heard that," Sophina whispered sadly.

Ashford sighed. "Once again, it wasn't widely known. Most people think she killed herself. At any rate, the warriors of Raves knew the truth. To this day, we still don't know who assassinated her. I tend to think it was the Magi Victus, myself."

"It wasn't," Jon corrected him.

Ashford shrugged. "Well, then I don't know who did. The treaty broken, the desert people once again began raiding our cities. Heartbroken, for he truly loved his desert princess, King Roland slowly wasted away and died."

"Now, King Reynar, who was only the High Prince at the time, had been studying at the Emporium since he was a child. He was an extraordinarily brilliant Magi. He would have easily made the 10th Tier by the time he finished. I grew up along side him and loved him like a brother. There were 5 of us, all the best of friends. We knew Reynar was going to do great things."

"So, when Reynar's father died, he immediately declared war on Raves. Thus began the War of the Desert. As we all know, it lasted ten years. What we don't all know is that it ended in another peace treaty."

"I wasn't aware of this," Jon said slowly.

"Only a select few knew," Ashford said proudly. "Reynar discovered that the people of Raves were led by a goddess."

"What?" Jon and Sophina asked.

Ashford nodded. "The warriors of Raves were impressed by Reynar's fighting prowess and by their shared blood. They agreed to let him meet their goddess. It was a honor no other outsider had ever been allowed."

"There are no such thing as goddesses," Jon said.

"Of course there isn't," Ashford said, waving his hand. "Reynar came back from the meeting shaking his head. He said it was just some crazy old woman who claimed to see the future. In any case, she agreed to stop the war. King Reynar stayed in Raves for a year as part of the agreement. He agreed to learn their ways to better understand his heritage. And so that brings us to now."

Jon shook his head. "Something doesn't make sense. A goddess? Why would those proud warriors revere some crazy old woman?"

"I lived with them for a long time," Ashford said. "I was an ambassador, after all. And I still don't understand them and the system of honor they live by. Sometimes, it seems like they make up rules as they go along. It was very frustrating dealing with them, I can tell you that."

Marcus, who was pacing throughout Ashford's tale, suddenly stopped and looked at Ashford. "You said earlier that you overlooked signs of Reynar's power?"

"Yeah," Ashford sighed. "We didn't get to spend a lot of time with him when he became king, but there were times when he came by the Emporium to visit. He liked to peruse the library books. Sometimes, one of us would ask him for some help with some magic we were practicing. At the time, I dismissed his great skill because I expected it from him. But now, looking back at it...he was very powerful. Much more powerful than before."

"More powerful than before?" Marcus asked sharply. "What before?"

Ashford shrugged. "Before the war, I guess."

"Did he fight a lot during the war?" Marcus asked.

"He fought some, yes. Why?"

"Did he display any of that brilliant magic during the war?"

Ashford frowned. He shook his head slowly. "No...I only saw his normal magic. It was still brilliant, though."

Sophina had been following the exchange with a growing sense of wonder. She was definitely in over her head. "What are you getting at, Marcus?" she asked.

Marcus stared intently at Ashford. "Ashford, this is very important. Would you say that his increased ability came after his one year in Raves, and not before?"

"Yes," Ashford said slowly. "I never thought about that before. But yes...I would agree with that."

Marcus and Jon exchanged sharp looks. "You don't think...?" Marcus said.

Sophina almost gasped at the look of anger that twisted Jon's face. "It better not be!" he rasped.

"What's going on?" Sophina asked, scared.

"Now you know your next step," Marcus told Jon.

Jon nodded, his nostrils flaring in anger. "We have three months. It should be enough time."

Sophina looked between Jon and Marcus. "Will you tell us what's going on? Why do we have three months?"

Jon shook his head. "The time for questions is over. Evelyn's pregnancy will only last three months. Once the baby is born, I have a feeling we will be out of time. I don't know what Reynar's plans are, but I'm pretty sure they aren't the same as ours. The child's life could be at risk."

"What are our plans?" Sophina asked. Three months? Poor Evelyn!

Jon pointed at Ashford. "You're coming with me."

Ashford shook his head. "What are you talking about? Coming with you where?"

Jon's smile was grim. "To Raves."

Ashford groaned. "I hate that place," he muttered.

"What about me?" Sophina asked, feeling left out.

Jon studied her for a few moments. "I need you to stay here. You're going to organize a resistance. Reynar is going to guard her with the whole might of his army. You're job will be to rescue Evelyn."

Sophina's heart pounded in her chest. She nodded fiercely. "She will be waiting with us when you get back."

Jon smiled. "I have no doubt."

"We're going to need a lot of supplies if we're going into the desert," Ashford warned Jon.

Jon nodded. "It's been a long day so far and it's only going to get longer. We have a lot of planning ahead of us."

***

"Three months?" Evelyn gasped. "That's impossible!"

"You're giving birth to a one-of-a-kind child," Reynar said. "I told you, it's not going to be a normal pregnancy."

Evelyn continued to clutch her stomach. Now that she concentrated on it, she could feel the baby inside of her. She knew now that's where her increased power came from. The pain in her heart was receding fast. She felt...happy. She buried her head in her hands and wept.

"Get it all out," Reynar said quietly.

Evelyn wept for a long time. Finally, her eyes puffy, she raised her head. "I feel like the bridge between Daminus and I has been fixed. I can feel him inside me!"

"I'm glad," Reynar replied, and he looked it.

Evelyn laughed and hiccupped at the same time. Her already soaked sleeve got even more soaked as she dried her eyes again. "It's so strange! I can't even wrap my head around it. My husband is dead...but I'm about to give birth to him?"

Reynar looked at her sadly. "It's not Daminus," he said slowly. "Your child has its own soul. It's just...mixed with a part of your husband's. The child won't be Daminus."

Evelyn smiled and wiped away a tear. "I know. But Daminus is a part of my child, I can feel it."

"I don't doubt you," Reynar replied with a smile. The smile faded as he watched her. "There is one more thing, Evelyn."

"What?" She felt her heart clench in fear.

Reynar opened his mouth and then closed it. He took a quick drink of wine and licked his lips. "I know you just recently lost Daminus but...your child is very, very important." He looked unsure about how to continue. He took a deep breath.

"Evelyn...we have to get married."

***

Chapter 13: Prepartions and leave-taking. Evelyn struggles with a question.

Note: I'm proud to say that the last two chapters of Shadow Dagger are in the top 10 of scifi/fantasy stories for the past 12 months! Sadly, they won't make the all time list because it seems a story needs at least 100 votes. Oh well, I'm happy with the votes I got! Thanks everyone!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 13



A shocked silence filled the room. Evelyn was sure she didn't hear Reynar right. "What?"

Reynar looked highly uncomfortable. He fidgeted in his seat before taking a deep breath to relax. "We have to get married. It's your baby's destiny."

"Destiny?" Evelyn repeated. Her brain seemed to be stuck in quicksand. The more she heard, the quicker she sank. "Married?"

Reynar frowned and clicked his tongue. "Come now, Evelyn, surely you can see why I ask this?"

Evelyn shook her head vigorously. "No, I don't! My soul-mate just died and you're proposing marriage? I don't even know you!"

Reynar stared at her so calmly that Evelyn felt a little of her panic recede. "Evelyn, my marriage proposal is not about love. It's purely political. My advisors have grown very worried. I'm 200 years old and I still haven't secured the line of Lobare. But what they don't know is that I've been waiting for this moment ever since I was told a prophecy."

"You've been waiting for me?" Evelyn asked incredulously.

Reynar shook his head slowly. "No...not you exactly. I didn't know who the prophecy referred to. Now I do. Evelyn, marrying me will secure the safety of your child and will ensure the safety of the entire world."

Evelyn rubbed her stomach. "My child...will save the world?"

Reynar nodded. "Yes, but only if it comes from royalty. Otherwise, in order to seize power, it will have to wage war to take it. But I don't think it would survive that long. Remember, Jon Laurent is out there and he knows about the prophecy. He will use your baby for his own ends."

Evelyn absorbed all of this in silence. Her brain was whirling in a thousand different directions. She asked the first question that popped into her mind. "So if I marry you, you will claim my baby as your own?"

"Yes. We would have to have the wedding by next week. We then would announce you were pregnant a month later. When you actually do give birth three months from now, we will have to hide that fact. You would have to pretend to be pregnant for 5 more months. But your baby will be very safe. Nobody will get past me, I swear it."

"We have to get married next week?" Evelyn gasped. Events were moving were way too fast for her.

Reynar sighed. "I'm sorry, Evelyn. I can't give you more time. I will let you sleep on it but you have to decide by tomorrow."

Evelyn closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. She hated being rushed into making decisions. "What if I said no?" She opened her eyes and watched him carefully.

Reynar studied her for a few moments, his finger tracing the shape of his lips. "I won't force you, Evelyn," he finally said, somberly. "I would protect you and your child as best as I could. But..." he shrugged his shoulders, holding up his hands helplessly. "Without royalty to cloak your baby in, it would be at the mercy of Jon Laurent. And eventually your baby would need to seize power in order to wrought the changes needed to save this world."

"So you're saying I have no choice?" Evelyn sighed.

"You have a choice," Reynar said quietly. "But they're tough choices, I grant you that."

Evelyn stared at him sightlessly. Her mind was far away, considering every branching point in her future. She shook her head angrily. "Why am I just supposed to believe you? You're telling me that I'm giving birth to a true-born Magi and that it will save the world. Well, I didn't know the world needed saving! It seems perfectly fine to me!"

Reynar said nothing but stared at her rather curiously. He tapped his lips thoughtfully. "You know, you're a very intelligent women. It's been ages since I had an intelligent conversation."

"I'm glad you're pleased," Evelyn said slowly, completely thrown off balance by his sudden change in topics.

Reynar smiled. "You brought up some excellent points. How are you suppose to believe me? My answer to that, my dear Evelyn, is to look around!" He gestured to the windows all around the room. "Just open your eyes! What do you think the war with the Magi Victus is all about? Do you really believe things can go on much longer as they are now? Eventually the Magi will die off. This country would lose its pillar of support. It would once again descend into anarchy and lawlessness."

Evelyn frowned. She knew Reynar was right. The situation with the Magi Victus was getting worse. The Magi had twice as many members 200 years ago as it did now. "But how does that signify the end of the world?"

"Do you really think this country would survive without us? Remember your history about the Warlords and how the world almost ended."

Evelyn couldn't argue that point. "And my child? What would its role be?" she asked quietly.

"Your child's powers of creation will be unparalleled. Just imagine the possibilities! Imagine the discoveries that will be made!" Reynar's eyes shone with passion. He stared past her, as though his eyes were already beholding wondrous sights. "You're child will have the power to bring peace to this world! No more wars, no more fighting..."

Evelyn rubbed her stomach. Is my child really capable of that? She felt a swelling of pride as Reynar's words swept her up and carried her along with him. The Magi had already benefited the world so much with their research and use of magic. Her child would make all that look like child's play. She knew it had that power. She could feel it inside her.

Still, she wasn't quite ready to decide. "And what of Jon Laurent? You speak of him as though he were the world's foil, it's bringer of destruction."

Reynar's smile slid off his face. He grimaced angrily. "Jon Laurent has already betrayed the world once, for his own power. No doubt he wishes to use your child to claim that power for himself."

Evelyn shuddered and nervously smoothed the robe over her stomach. "Can he really steal my child's power?"

Reynar snorted. "I have no doubt that he's been preparing for that for the past 2,500 years. Jon Laurent has many tricks up his sleeve. You need only look at the Shadow Dagger at his side to see my meaning."

Evelyn gasped. "Are you saying you know what a Shadow Dagger is?"

Reynar scowled and shook his head. "No, the Magi Victus guard that secret with their lives. Whatever secret lies behind the making of a Shadow Dagger, I would bet my crown that it's related to Jon Laurent's plans for your child."

Evelyn remained silent. She hated Jon Laurent for murdering her husband. She tried to put that aside to really look at him, to see if she could see the monster that Reynar believes lurks in his heart. If it did lurk there, he hid it well. He wasn't that unpleasant during the brief time that Evelyn spent with him.

"Evelyn," Reynar said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I know I dumped a lot of information on you. I want you to take some time to think about everything I said. I hope you come to the conclusion that I'm telling you the truth. But if not...well, it's your choice."

Evelyn nodded and stood up. She had a lot to think about tonight. "Thank you for the breakfast. It was...lovely."

Reynar smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. "Anytime."

She didn't turn to leave. She couldn't leave here without getting more time. "I can't decide in one night. Please, can I have one week?"

Reynar thought it over for several moments. "Ok," he replied at last. "I can give you one week."

"Thank you." Evelyn turned to go but stopped at the door, a sudden thought hitting her. She looked back at Reynar. "By the way, where did you learn all of your information?"

Reynar's smile said he had been expecting that question. "That's a story for another breakfast. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Evelyn nodded. "Perhaps." She closed the door quietly behind her. She let out a long sigh and fell back against the door. Daminus, what should I do?

***

Reynar watched her closed the door, his smile slowly fading from his face. He listened to the sound of her fading footsteps before erupting. "DAMN ME!" he roared, seizing a glass of wine and hurling it against the wall. The glass shattered into miniscule shards. He roared a wordless shout and upended the breakfast table. Dishes clanged loudly off the floor and food flew across the room.

Reynar stood in the middle of the mess, breathing loudly through his nose. What kind of monster am I? Am I any better than Jon Laurent? She was beautiful and intelligent and she deserved better than the lies he was forced to give her.

He strode angrily out of a connecting door and into his personal chambers. He walked to his desk and stared hatefully down at the innocent-looking wooden box. "Damn you," he whispered. "Damn you, old woman."

For a moment, he had a strong urge to pick up the box and hurl it through the window. Let the world destroy itself if it spared Evelyn any more pain. He had sacrificed too many lives. He was going to draw the line here and now. He reached for the box and hesitated, his finger underneath the crease of the lid. He didn't want to look at what was inside. He needed to. He needed to be reminded of why he was doing what he was doing.

"My liege," Sereph's voice came from behind.

Sighing, Reynar took his hand away from the box. "What is it?" Reynar asked quietly, his gaze still focused on the box.

"It has to be done," Sereph said firmly. "I understand your frustration, my liege. But you need to remember that the fate of the world lies on your shoulders. The world is worth far more than one life."

"Two lives," Reynar corrected him quietly. He turned and stared fiercely at his manservant.

Sereph bowed his head. "Two lives, as you say. Still, when compared against the entire world, those lives are meaningless."

Reynar glared at him. "No life is meaningless. Life is a matter of perspective, Sereph. Remember that when your time comes."

Sereph bowed again. "It is as you say, my liege."

Reynar snorted, his anger slipping away into wry amusement. "One of these days, I'm going to get an intelligent argument out of you."

"I would never dare to argue with my liege," Sereph said, alarmed.

Reynar waved his hand, dismissing the matter. "Don't worry, Sereph, I still intend to follow through with the plan." He sighed heavily, the weight of his burden settling once more on his shoulders. "I just don't like it."

"You wouldn't be the right man to save the world if it didn't bother you," Sereph said consolably.

Reynar nodded his thanks for the kind words and sat down behind his desk. "What's on my agenda today?"

"Your man is here," Sereph said pointedly, his eyes shifting sideways toward the door.

Reynar nodded. "Let him in."

Sereph bowed and opened the chamber door. He stepped back as a tall man walked past him and into the room.

"My liege," the man said, bowing low.

"Take a seat," Reynar commanded.

The man sat in the chair in front of Reynar's desk. Reynar saw him glance sideways at the adjourning door that led to Reynar's dining room. Reynar had left the door open. No doubt the man had seen the destruction in the room. Sereph must have noticed the man's glance because he strode swiftly across the room and shut the door.

Reynar returned his attention back to the man in front of him. "Were you followed?" The first question he always asked.

The man shook his head. "No, my liege, I left the council chambers quickly before Raynolt noticed my departure."

"I'm glad Raynolt remains ignorant. I'm sorry to say that our little ruse with Morgana worked all too well. It's my deepest regret that we tricked her the way we did. She was a fine Magi, if a bit too power hungry."

"She was a regrettable loss," the man agreed. He sighed heavily. "Still, it was worth it. I believe Raynolt is beginning to trust me more."

"Good," Reynar replied absently, his gaze far away as he looked out a window on the opposite wall. How easily we make sacrifices. What am I now? Am I still the same man I was before?

"My liege," the man said hesitantly. "Are you well?"

"What?" Reynar said, tearing his gaze away from the window and shaking his head. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. So, what do you have to report?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid. It seems that Raynolt and Sanje really did lose Laurent's body."

"So he's not hiding Laurent's body, then?"

The man shook his head. "No. I guess I was wrong. Laurent must still be alive."

Reynar sighed. "Well, I can't say it's a total loss. I want to find Laurent alive. I need to have a talk with that man before I kill him."

"I still can't believe they managed to lose him," the man said, shaking his head. "How do you let somebody escape after dropping them from a roof?"

"Laurent is a slippery bastard," Reynar growled. "Continue to push Raynolt into finding him. I want Sanje worrying about both Laurent and the war. He will be easier to manage if we can split his focus."

"Yes, my liege," the man said.

"Keep me updated," Reynar said, dismissing him.

The man stood up and bowed. He walked back to the door and stopped next to Sereph. Sereph handed him a bag of gold. The man nodded his thanks. He was almost out the door when Reynar stopped him again. "Oh, Lenard, do try to restrain Raynolt from attempting to kill Jon Laurent again."

Lenard Demps bowed low once again. "I will do my best, my liege."

Reynar continued to stare out the door even after Lenard left, his mind returning to the problem that was Raynolt Teryus. He looked over at Sereph. "Summon Raynolt. I believe I still need to talk to that man about obeying my orders."

***

Raynolt took a deep breath and tried his best to calm his fear. His stomach had been in knots ever since he received the summons. He had barely made it back to the Emporium after the council meeting before he had to turn back around and come right back. He had no idea what Reynar wanted to talk about. That was probably what scared him the most.

He ignored Reynar's personal guards on either side of the door as he knocked loudly. The door open almost immediately. Sereph bowed to Raynolt. "Grand Master," he greeted him as he stepped back from the door.

Raynolt walked nervously over to Reynar's desk. He stifled a fleeting moment of panic as he took in Reynar's angry scowl. "My liege," Raynolt greeted him, bowing low. His voice almost broke from fear. I hate this feeling! Where in the nine hells did this man come from?

"Take a seat," Reynar said coldly.

Raynolt composed himself as best he could as he sat down. He hoped he looked calm to all outside appearances. His stomach was continuing to flutter and clench at the same time. "What did you want to see me about, my liege?"

Reynar surveyed him for several long, pain-staking moments. Raynolt could feel sweat trickle down his back. "Jon Laurent," Reynar said quietly, his eyes boring into Raynolt's.

Raynolt sat frozen before him. He knew now what this meeting was about. Reynar, it seems, was not in the dark when it came to what happened yesterday. "Jon Laurent?"

"Don't play games with me," Reynar said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were flashing with anger. His quiet demeanor was more frightening than outright anger.

"My liege...I...I don't know..."

"What were my orders?" Reynar cut him off, his voice still as soft as silk.

Raynolt knew lying would get him nowhere. Is this it? Have I outlived my usefulness? "Jon Laurent was to be captured alive," he replied.

"Alive..." Reynar mused, his eyes once again boring into Raynolt's. "Are you familiar with that word?"

"My liege, I assure you, Jon Laurent would not let himself be captured alive. He performed magic, for God's sake!" Raynolt felt a flash of embarrassment at how shrill his voice had become.

"I warned you about him!" Reynar snapped, showing a flash of anger for the first time. "I told you he wasn't just a Magi Victus! So don't give me that excuse."

Raynolt shook his head. "I didn't believe you! I admit it, I didn't take your words very seriously. I mean...Jon Laurent a Magi?"

Reynar didn't respond immediately. He just continued to give Raynolt that piercing gaze of his. "Yet you obviously took that possibility into account, what with all the Magi and Magi Victus you gathered to go after him."

"I still didn't expect...I just wanted to be prepared for anything. I had no choice but to kill him at the end."

"Do you value your life?" Reynar asked suddenly.

Raynolt felt an icy stab of fear in his gut. "My life?" he stammered. "Yes...yes I do."

"You don't act like it. I hope you don't really believe that I buy your story. Do you really think me to be a fool?"

Raynolt shook his head vigorously. "No, of course not, my liege!"

"Then it stands to reason that you disobeyed my orders deliberately, doesn't it?" Reynar didn't look angry, but his gaze was still razor sharp.

Raynolt swallowed. "Yes," he admitted, his pride finally giving in. Do your worst, Reynar.

Reynar, however, suddenly smiled. "So, there is some courage there," he observed. Then the smile slipped off his face so fast that Raynolt was sure his mind had been playing tricks on him. "Do you know why I keep your alive?"

Raynolt opened his mouth but no sound came out. Reynar continued. "The only reason you're still breathing is because I need you to run this war and to control the rest of the council. Believe me, if there was a better candidate to lead this war I would kill you in a heartbeat."

"My liege...I don't know--"

Reynar cut him off. "Alas, I'm stuck with you and your petty schemes for power. Remember what I said at our very first meeting. When the day comes that you're no longer useful to me, I will kill you. So if I were you, Raynolt, I would make myself very, very useful. Do you understand?"

Raynolt nodded shakily. "I understand, my liege. I will redouble my efforts to win this war. I have Sanje right where I want him."

"Good," Reynar said. "I want daily reports on the progress of the war. I hope Sanje doesn't outsmart you, Raynolt. I want the Magi Victus wiped out once and for all."

"There will be, my liege, trust me. Sanje doesn't know what I have in store for him."

"I will take your word on it, for now. Now, do you have anything to report?"

Raynolt shook his head. His brain was nowhere close to working. Still, he tried his best to remember something. "I was just about to make preparations for tonight's patrols." Once he started talking, a sudden idea came to him. "My liege, I was informed that Evelyn Ventus was spotted alive and that she left with you yesterday."

Reynar's eyes flashed dangerously. "What of it?"

Raynolt felt another stab of fear. The man looked ready to spit him on a lance. "I need to talk to her," he said cautiously.

"And why is that?"

"I am the Grand Master and she is still a Magi. I believe I still have the authority to talk to my Magi, don't I?" His question was genuine. He really didn't know how much power Reynar had left him.

Reynar stayed silent for several long moments. Raynolt fidgeted nervously in his chair. "I suppose you do have that privilege," Reynar said slowly. "You can find her in the living quarters. A servant can direct you to the right room."

"My liege--" Sereph began, stepping forward, but Reynar held up his hand. Sereph fell silent immediately.

"Is there anything else?" Reynar asked, his eyes daring Raynolt to ask for another favor. Raynolt shook his head quickly. "Then get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Raynolt didn't need to be told twice. He stood up jerkily, bowed low, and hastily made his way out of the room. Once he got two hallways away, he fell back against the wall and vomited on the ground.

"Damn you, Reynar," he rasped. His stomach had been tense throughout the entire meeting. Wiping vomit from his chin with the sleeve of his robe, he looked around. He knew the living quarters to be on the east wing somewhere.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 13



What is it you and Reynar are hiding, I wonder?

***

Evelyn sat on the bench facing the window. She had opened the tall windows to let the sun in. She closed her eyes and let the sun bathe her with it's golden light. She absent-mindedly rubbed her stomach. She could feel the baby more and more. She was amazed that she had missed it.

Daminus, you're still alive. I know you are. Thank you, my love. Thank you for saving my life. Ever since retiring to her bedroom after the meeting with Reynar, she had felt her grief fade away. Daminus had saved her life. When one partner in a soul-bond died, the other partner was always quick to follow. It was the curse of that magic.

But Evelyn knew she no longer faced that destiny. Daminus had single-handily taken care of that. Now, a new life grew inside of her. She would protect her baby for all the years of her life. Daminus had given her a purpose and a reason to live. She smiled up at the sun, tears of joy trickling down her cheek.

Thank you, my love.

Somebody knocked on her door. "Yes?" Evelyn asked happily, wiping her cheeks.

The servant, Evelyn, opened the door. "My lady, you have a visitor."

"Really?" Evelyn asked. Who would visit me?

Raynolt Teryus walked past the servant. "Hello, Evelyn."

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Evelyn jumped to her feet, murderous hatred flooding her veins at the sight of the man who killed her husband. Raynolt's eyes glowed silver as he began manipulating a spell in the air in front of him. Without speaking or moving, runes of binding flew from Evelyn and wrapped around Raynolt.

Raynolt's eyes widened in shock. A wall of flame erupted in front him and sped toward Evelyn. Once again, a spell sprung into being in her mind. A wall of runes surrounded her, easily dissipating the wall of flame. A lightning bolt struck from the ceiling and shattered on her wards. More and more lightning bolts followed the first.

That man is still dangerous, Evelyn thought calmly, ignoring the cackle of electricity as it struck her shield. Raynolt's body was bound by the binding spell but he could still cast spells in his mind without speaking or moving. Before Evelyn could spare any thought on how to stop him, another spell formed in her mind. Runes drifted from her hand and settled over Raynolt's head.

Raynolt's eyes were now almost bulging out of his head. The strikes of lightning stopped. An odd silence descended on the room. Evelyn waved her hand, removing the part of the binding spell that covered his mouth.

"What are you?" Raynolt whispered, his eyes still round with fear. "How did you do that? I...I can't feel my magic."

"I'm your death," Evelyn replied, ignoring his second question. She felt calm. The murderous rage that had filled her earlier was gone. Only a clear sense of purpose remained. "You should have known I would kill you, Raynolt. It was foolish to come here." 

"But...but you're only a 5th Tier Magi! This is not possible!"

"You always did put too much faith in the Tiers," Evelyn replied, thinking of something Boltus used to say. "People can't always be classified so easily."

"Do it then!" Raynolt spat. "Kill me! Become a murderer!"

Evelyn raised her hand. She formed the spell slowly and carefully, so Raynolt could see what it was. The runes of the spell flashed on her palm. Evelyn stared at him for what seemed like an eternity.

"Do it," Raynolt hissed. "I'm sure your beloved husband would have loved to see you become a murderer. Can you do it? Do you have it in you?"

The runes spun rapidly on her palm. It only needed one last manipulation for the spell to click into place. She stared straight into his eyes. In the face of his death, all fear had left him. He even looked somewhat eager. The man was definitely unbalanced. She would be doing the world a favor. How many people had he killed, directly or indirectly?

"What're you waiting for?" Raynolt said, almost begging.

Evelyn closed her fist. The runes flashed; Raynolt closed his eyes. 

"I'm not like you," Evelyn decided.

Raynolt slowly opened his eyes. "I know."

Evelyn turned away in disgust. She heard Raynolt stumble as she released the binding spell. "What do you want?" she sighed.

"What's going on between you and Reynar?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"That's none of your business."

"I'm still your Grand Master!" Raynolt growled.

Evelyn turned around slowly. She said nothing but simply gazed at him. He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm...sorry," he offered grudgingly.

"You're nothing to me, Raynolt. I've never and I will never acknowledge you as the Grand Master. We both know how you got the position. I will make sure you pay for Boltus' death one day. And for Daminus'," she added quietly.

"So, you're Reynar's lackey, are you? This is where your loyalties lie?"

"My loyalties lie with the kingdom of Astuari," Evelyn replied. "How about yours?"

Raynolt scowled at her. "Reynar is very dangerous man, Evelyn. I came here to warn you."

"How nice of you," she replied acidly. "I think I can take care of myself." She rubbed her stomach. Nobody can harm me. Not with Daminus watching over me.

Raynolt sighed wearily. "I came here looking for an ally in my fight against Reynar. I will admit, Evelyn, that I only wished to seize power from him. But now...there's something strange about that man. I have a bad feeling. Where did he get his power? What's his goal?"

Evelyn said nothing. She knew Reynar's plans, or at least most of it. She didn't know what to think about Reynar. Who was he? He said he would explain everything in their next meeting. He learned that power from somewhere. "I'm done talking you," she said, turning back to the window.

"Just watch your back," Raynolt warned her. The door closed behind him.

Evelyn sighed. The interruption with Raynolt had killed her good mood. Now her mind focused on Reynar and his offer. Was she ready to get married again? That answer was easy, at least. She was nowhere near ready to get married. Then again, it wasn't about love. She doubted she would ever love another man again. No, she had to think about her baby now.

Daminus...I wish I could talk to you again. What would you say? She closed her eyes to the sun again. She still had a week to think about it. For now, she would enjoy this day. She just found out she was pregnant. She happy.

She was whole.

***

Sophina stood by Jon's doorway, watching him stuff clothing into a bag. "You look good," she commented.

Jon turned toward her and grunted. "Very funny."

"No, I mean it," she said, stepping into the room. "You and Ashford suffered near fatal wounds. You look perfectly normal. I, on the other hand..." she trailed off, looking at the back of hand. She could see the bones protruding from her skin.

"I'm sorry," Jon said quietly. "The healing Marcus uses is radically different from the healing I'm capable of. I use magic to force the mind to heal the body. The mind uses the energy stored in the body to accomplish this. Marcus' healing spells, on the other hand, transfers his own magical energy into the body. That's why he was so exhausted."

"I figured that," Sophina said, sighing. "At least I'm lighter now," she added, tapping the sword at her side.

Jon smiled. "That you are. I'm glad to see you're still practicing. You're getting better."

Sophina swelled up at his praise. "Thank you...Master." She grinned.

Jon shook his head. "I swear, if I have Ashford calling me 'Master' all the way to the desert, I'm coming back here to kill you."

"I might be too much for you now," Sophina replied, smirking.

"A master never teaches his student all he knows," Jon said sagely.

Sophina laughed. "I'm going to miss you."

"I will miss you, too," he said quietly. He shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of that feeling. "So, are you ok with the plan?"

"Most of it," Sophina said slowly. "Are we sure we can trust that man?"

Jon shrugged. "Ashford says he's a honorable man. We're just going to have to trust Ashford on this one."

"I still think you and Ashford should come along with me before you leave," Sophina said bitterly.

Jon sighed. "I'm not going over this again. You know that man will never respect you if we're there to back you up. You have to do this on your own."

Sophina nodded. "I know...I'm just scared."

Jon laughed. "You, scared? I didn't know you even knew the feeling."

"Very funny." Sophina frowned and looked down at her boots. "Jon...are you sure you want Marcus to stay with me? The argument I heard you two have last night..." she trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. She hadn't been eavesdropping. She just couldn't tune out their voices, that's all.

"Everything's fine," Jon replied dismissively. "Marcus has agreed to accompany you."

Sophina spoke hesitantly. "And...are you sure he's...you know...safe?"

Jon stuffed one last piece of clothing in the bag and tied it shut. He turned his head slowly and stared at Sophina intently. "I trust Marcus. However, if you see anything troubling from him, you make sure he takes the drug right away, ok?"

"Ok," Sophina agreed.

Jon nodded. "Well, I've packed all I can. The rest of our supplies should be with the supply cart by now. Do you have everything you need?"

"I have more than enough, Jon. You gave me enough money to buy a small country." Sophina shook her head; she had never seen so much gold in her entire life.

"I just want to be careful," Jon replied, lifting the bag onto his shoulder. "It certainly has been a long week, hasn't it? I'm quite looking forward to this trip, to be honest."

"It'll be good to start doing something," Sophina agreed. "I just wish I wasn't so nervous."

"You'll be fine," Jon said, smiling kindly at her.

Sophina walked with him out to the large living room area. Ashford sat nervously, his bag of clothing lying next to his feet. Since they had been spotted alive a week ago, their disguises were no longer necessary. Ashford had been all too happy to let his hair grow back. His head was covered in rough stubble. He shaved off his beard, too, though he left enough for a goatee. Sophina already had blonde roots showing in her black-dyed hair.

"You ok, Ash?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm ok. How about you? I hope you don't have any trouble at your meeting."

"I should be fine," Sophina replied, hoping he didn't hear the nervousness in her voice. "I hope your trip goes well."

"It's not the trip I'm worried about. A two-week journey through the vast desert plains will be pretty boring. No, I'm worried about those damn desert warriors sticking their swords in us."

"It's going to be a one week journey," Jon corrected him.

Ashford looked at Jon as though he was afraid for his sanity. "Even if we ride our horses to death, it's still a two week journey."

"Not if we use Organic Manipulation," Jon said. Seeing the confused look on Ashford's face, he clarified his statement. "You know Organic Manipulation, don't you? Enhancing the horses with magic?"

Ashford shook his head. "You can do that?"

Jon sighed. "Sometimes I forget how much you Magi don't know. Look, you cast spells on yourself sometimes, right? That's Organic Manipulation. What makes you think you couldn't do the same thing on a horse?"

"I...I never thought about it," Ashford admitted.

"Looks like I'm going to have to spend my time training you while we travel."

Ashford's eyes suddenly gleaned excitedly. "Thanks, Master."

Jon shot a dirty look over at Sophina, who was having trouble controlling her laughter. I'm going to miss this.

"You ready, Ashford?" Jon asked.

Ashford nodded. He stood up and walked over to Sophina. "Take care of yourself, ok?" He hugged her.

Sophina hugged him back tightly. "Listen to everything Jon tells you, ok?"

Ashford laughed, releasing her. "Will do."

Sophina stood on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "For good luck."

Ashford stared at her in amazement. He touched his lips as he turned away. Sophina walked over to Jon. "Good luck."

"You too," he said, holding out his hand. Sophina raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" Jon asked. "You don't expect me to kiss you? Not after your lips touched Ashford's?"

Sophina grinned. "I'll settle for a hug, then." Before he could respond, she crushed him in her arms. After a moment, he hugged her back.

"Get Evelyn back safely," he said gruffly.

"I will," she said, her voice muffled by his tunic. She stepped back and wiped a tear from her eye. "Come back alive."

"We will." And to Sophina's utter amazement, he leaned in quickly and kissed her gently. Her lips opened automatically. She felt his hot breath against her tongue. Her tongue darted out but he pulled back suddenly and nodded at her. "Let's go," he told Ashford.

Sophina watched them walk up the steps that led to the false wall in the abandoned house above. She touched her lips in wonder. She had never felt a kiss like that from a man. Ignoring the best she could the wetness between her legs, she walked slowly back to the guest room. It was time to wake Marcus up. They had a meeting to go to.

***

Jon glanced up at the setting sun. He estimated that they still had twenty minutes until sunset. They should beat the curfew the Magi imposed for the duration of their war with the Magi Victus. He adjusted the strap of his bag and lifted it onto his shoulder.

"I hope we don't have any trouble," Ashford whispered.

"We will if you stray from the plan," Jon replied quietly.

Ashford gave him an affronted look. "Do I look stupid?"

"I just want to make sure there are no mistakes." Jon stopped at the corner of the street and peeked out past the building. The street was already clear. People weren't waiting for sundown to get indoors. Satisfied, Jon led Marcus down the street, making sure to walk casually.

"You don't think we'll run into any Magi patrols before sunset, do you?" Ashford asked.

Jon shrugged. "I prepare for any possibility. That way, any surprises will be good ones."

"I hope we don't," Ashford sighed. "I don't want to think about having to kill my fellow Magi."

"Then pray," Jon replied absently, stopping at another street corner before continuing. They were almost to the city wall. He glanced up at the sun. The bottom was now falling behind the high city wall.

After five more tense minutes, they reached an alleyway that led to the wall. "Stay here," Jon said, holding his hand up. Ashford nodded nervously. Jon pulled the hood of his nondescript brown hood tighter around his face, gripped his bag tighter, and walked into the alley. The shadows immediately consumed him.

He walked silently and reached the end of the alley. The wall was only a few feet away. He looked back down the alley and gestured at Ashford to follow him. Ashford practically ran down the alley, his bag flopping against his back, and stopped, panting in front of Jon. "What happened to taking it easy?" Jon growled.

"I'm just ready to get out of here already!" Ashford's eyes darted constantly in his head. Every small sound made him turn his head quickly.

"Relax," Jon said, patting him on the shoulder. He turned back and studied the wall. Silver runes covered the entire surface; runes that only Magi could see. Judging from the pattern, it appeared that at least three Magi were on top of the wall, maintaining the wards.

"Did you figure it out yet?" Jon asked Ashford. There was nothing better than training by fire.

Ashford studied the runes anxiously. His brow was furrowed in thought and his eyes glowed silver. He set his bag down by his feet as he continued to study the runes. Finally, he turned toward Jon and nodded. 

"Give it a try," Jon said, gesturing toward the wall.

Ashford swallowed and wiped sweat from his forehead. Jon watched intently as Ashford's fingers flashed in the air, forming intricate runes. The runes moved toward the wall and began to snake its way up. The wards on the wall glowed as Ashford's runes slid through them and around them. After several long moments, Ashford's runes covered a good amount of the wall in front of them.

He looked nervously at Jon. Jon rested his chin in his hand as he studied the wall. He nodded slowly. "Do it."

Ashford clenched his fist. His runes locked into place with the wards. The runes on a twenty foot section of the wall in front of them slowly dulled to a light gray all the way to the top of the wall. Jon reached out his hand and held it an inch from the wall.

"Let's see how good you did," Jon whispered, pressing his palm flat against the wall.

Nothing happened. The dull gray runes did not flash or make any kind of movement. Jon smiled at Ashford, who looked extremely proud. "Good job...if a bit sloppy," Jon said, wiping the smile off Ashford's face. Smirking, Jon embraced his magic, forming a quick spell in his mind. Runes flashed on the palms of his hands and on the soles of his boots.

Jon heard Ashford muttered the spell behind him. Jon set his hands on the wall and quickly scrambled up, like a squirrel flying up the trunk of a tree. The runes on his hands and feet flashed rapidly as they held him to the wall. Jon reached the tip of the wall in a matter of seconds. He kept his head below the edge of the wall and waited. He could sense Ashford right below him. The sun had fully set now. Night was quickly descending, like a cool blanket over the earth.

Using his sense of smell and hearing, he determined that there was indeed three Magi in the area of this section of the wall. Remembering the promise he made to Ashford, he prepared a spell in his mind that would club the Magi unconscious. He reached up and grabbed the edge of the roof. He set his feet firmly against the wall and propelled himself high into the air.

He landed on the roof silently and rolled to his feet. Two Magi were standing in front of him, mouths hanging open in shock. Runes in the shape of a hammer quickly clubbed both of them on the head. They fell to the ground immediately. 

Where is the other one? Behind me?

Jon whirled around and grabbed the hilt of his Shadow Dagger. It wasn't needed; Ashford moved away from the unconscious body of the third Magi. Jon nodded at him and straightened up, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder. "We did it."

"We better hurry; they're going to notice the wards that suddenly went blank," Ashford whispered.

Jon quickly made his way across the top of the wall, which had to be a good fifty-feet thick. Jon knelt down on one knee and took the bag off his shoulder. He pulled out a long coil of rope and let it fall down the outside of the wall. He laid the end of the rope on the roof and cast a quick spell to hold it in place.

"Why do we need a rope?" Ashford hissed.

"You'll see," Jon whispered. He grabbed the robe and descended a few feet down the wall. He cast a quick spell of protection for his hands and slid down the rope rapidly. In less than a minute, Jon's boots thudded on soft earth. He stepped back and waited for Ashford to descend. After helping Ashford to his feet, Jon looked out into the night.

"Well, now what?" Ashford asked. "Where's our supplies?"

Jon pointed. A large shadow had dislodged itself from the edge of the wall. It was a man, driving a cart that was attached to two horses. He stopped in front of Jon and hopped down. "Master Laurent! Good to see you!" the man said quietly, holding out his hand.

Jon shook his hand. "You have everything, Jin?"

"Oh, yes, I secured all the supplies you asked for."

"Good," Jon said, handing him a bag of coins.

The man opened the bag and gasped. "This is more than I asked for!"

Jon shrugged. "It was a dangerous job. I left the rope for you, Jin. You better hurry; the Magi will show up quickly and I won't hold the spell on the rope for long."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 13



"The God bless you, Master Laurent," Jin replied tearfully, shaking Jon's hand. "And you too, sir," the man added, reaching over and shaking Ashford's hand. He wiped his eyes and quickly made his way to the rope. Jon heard Ashford gasp as the man climbed swiftly up the rope, as limber as a monkey.

"What was that about?" Ashford asked, his eyes following the retreating figure on the wall above him.

"He was banned from the city several years ago. He has a family inside." Jon gestured at the cart. "Get it," he said, throwing his bag into the back of the cart. Ashford threw his bag in and quickly climbed onto the bench. Jon took the driver's spot and grabbed the reins.

"Hold on," he warned Ashford. He recited a long spell in his mind and watched as the runes settled over the horses. I owe that one to you, Sarah. He snapped the reigns and held on tight as the cart jerked forward.

Ashford cried out and barely kept his seat as the cart thundered off into the night. Jon quickly guided them to the dirt road that led to the gates of the city. There was no traffic at this time of night. Jon didn't need light to see where he was going. He was filled with magic. The starlight was enough for his eyes.

The horses ran at full speed for several hours. The cart bounced around uncomfortably and Ashford was heard to mutter several swear words under his breath. Jon took no notice of his surroundings but kept his gaze resolutely forward. He had seen the countryside too many times in his life.

Ashford, who had made the trip to Raves many times, also didn't seem to care about the surrounding countryside. For a few miles past the wall of the city, Jon drove down a road that led past several large manor houses and farms. Here was where the economy of the city flourished. Magi tended to these crop fields, enhancing everything with magic. There were even several decent-sized villages near the shadow cast by the walls of the capital city. Jon avoided these, however. He didn't want anyone to know where he had disappeared off to.

Eventually, as the morning sun began to tinge the night sky with a riot of colors, they passed fewer and fewer farms and encountered more open countryside. Once the sun had peaked over the horizon, Jon finally slowed the horses down. He released his magic and slumped back against the bench. "I'm going to teach you Organic Manipulation," Jon said tiredly.

Ashford grunted. "I can't wait."

Jon sighed and led the horses off the road. There was a large forest barely more than a half-mile away. He led the horses into the forest for a few minutes before stopping. "We'll camp here for a few hours."

Ashford hopped down and rubbed his back. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to walk by the time we get to the desert."

"You'll get use to it," Jon said, as he rummaged through the supplies in the back of the cart. He pulled out a large pot and tossed it to Ashford. "Get a fire started."

Ashford dug a fire pit while Jon examined the amount of food he had procured. They should have enough to last a month. Jon fervently hoped nothing happened to delay them that long. They had no time to waste.

Neither one spoke as the stew was prepared. Ashford ladled them large portions of beef stew and sat back against his roll of bedding. Jon ate his stew slowly as he gazed up at the early morning sky. Try as he might, he couldn't suppress the memories of the days Sarah and he had stared up at the clouds after long sessions of love-making.

"What're you thinking?" Ashford asked, looking up at the sky.

"Nothing," Jon grunted, turning his attention back to his bowl of stew.

Ashford snorted. "When a man has that look on his face, he's usually thinking about a woman. What's her name?"

"Sarah," Jon muttered, not sure why he said that aloud.

"Good," Ashford grunted. He set his bowl on the ground and leaned back against the bedding. He folded his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes. "For a minute there, I thought you were going to say Sophina."

Jon jerked his head around. "What makes you say that?"

Ashford opened one eye and gazed shrewdly at him. "I saw that kiss you gave her. It looked a hell of a lot more friendly than the one I got."

Jon shook his head. Was it really? No...no it can't be. "You have it all wrong," Jon replied. Me and Sophina? He shook his head again.

"I hope I do," Ashford said, closing his eye again.

It was Jon's turn to stare at him shrewdly. "Why are you so interested? Do you like her?"

Ashford shifted against the bedding but didn't open his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

Jon could see his cheeks reddening. Smirking, he said, "You should probably forget about that. I don't think either one of us has a shot with her."

Ashford opened his eyes and stared at Jon, perplexed. "What does that mean?"

Jon sighed. "I don't think Sophina's interests lie in our direction." Seeing the confused look on Ashford's face, Jon elaborated. "When I say our direction, I mean men."

Ashford stared, dumbfounded, at Jon for several moments before exploding with laughter. "You almost had me!" he roared, rolling around the leaf-strewn carpet of the forest. "Women, eh? I'd like to see that!"

Jon smiled and shook his head. "I'm serious," Jon said quietly, once Ashford's laughter had died down. "She's in love with Evelyn. Take a moment and think about it."

Ashford still looked on the verge of laughing. He clasped his hands behind his head and gazed up at the clouds. Jon watched as his smile slowly faded from his face. He frowned. Finally, he turned to Jon. "Do you really think so?"

Jon nodded. "She never outright told me, but it was pretty obvious. She knew that I knew and I think that's all that mattered to her. We didn't need to talk about it."

Ashford spent several silent minutes frowning up at the sky. "I'm going to set up the tent," he said grumpily, moving off toward the cart.

Jon sighed and laid back against his bedding. He stared up at the sky and thought about Sarah. It was becoming less and less painful to think about her. He didn't know if he had completely forgiven her yet but he truly understood her choice now.

It's been a long time since I was with a woman. Was that kiss with Sophina really more than a friendly kiss? For a brief moment, I thought I felt her mouth open against mine. Jon shook his head but the thought clung stubbornly to his mind. He didn't have time for romance. 

For some reason, that thought didn't sit well with him.

***

Evelyn sat in her familiar spot by the window and watched the sun set over the wall of the city. It had been the longest week of her life and it wasn't quite over just yet. Reynar never did have breakfast with her after the first meeting. He sent his apologies and insisted that the war took up all his time. She wasn't fooled; she knew he was giving her time alone to reach her decision.

Watching the sunset paint the night sky pink and orange, Evelyn finally decided on her answer. She rubbed her stomach. Whatever happens, I will take care of you. I promise.

The sun had barely set when someone knocked on her door. "Come in, Eve," Evelyn said. She had decided to nickname Evelyn 'Eve' because she felt uncomfortable about her hero-worship.

Eve opened the door and bowed respectfully. "My lady, King Reynar kindly requests--"

"I know," Evelyn said, standing up. "Lead the way."

Evelyn walked silently next to Eve. Her mind was far away, trying to see the possible consequences of her decision. She prayed she was making the right one. She rubbed her stomach again. It became something of a comfort for her. Daminus was with her, giving her strength.

"You look...different, my lady," Eve said suddenly.

"How so?"

"I can't put my finger on it. When I first met you, you seemed frightened and unsure about yourself. Now, you walk with a confidence I didn't see before. You seem...more at peace. I hope you don't mind me saying all this, my lady," Eve muttered, blushing.

"I value your opinion," Evelyn said gently. "Yes, I am more at peace than I was a week ago. My grief for my husband has transformed into something else." She rubbed her stomach as she spoke.

"What?" Eve asked excitedly, and then, apparently recalling her surroundings, she hurriedly said, "Forgive me, my lady! It's none of my business."

"It's quite alright," Evelyn said, smiling. She didn't answer her question, however. The fewer people who knew about her pregnancy the better.

"We're here, my lady," Eve said, bowing low. She straightened up and knocked on the door.

Sereph opened the door. "Thank you," he told Eve. She bowed and left. "Please, come in, my lady."

Evelyn walked into Reynar's personal chambers. Reynar was sitting at his desk, reading several large pieces of parchment. He looked up when Evelyn entered the room. "Ah, my dear Evelyn! How are you? You must forgive me for canceling our breakfast appointments."

"It's fine," Evelyn assured him. "I used the time to make my decision."

"Truly?" Reynar asked, looking suddenly nervous. "Please, have a seat."

Evelyn sat in the chair in front of his desk and carefully arranged her robes around her legs. "Yes, I have reached my decision. But first, I need to know something so that I know I made the right decision."

Reynar nodded. "You wish to know the source of my information, correct?"

Evelyn inclined her head. "Yes, please."

Reynar opened a drawer on the bottom of his desk and reached inside. He pulled out a thick, leather-bound book and set it on the desk. "This is the source of my information."

"What is it?" Evelyn asked, her eyes riveted on the ancient book.

"When I waged war on Raves, I eventually came to discover that their people were led by what they called a 'goddess.' I use that term, loosely, as you can imagine. I eventually earned enough of their respect to be honored with a meeting with their goddess. As it turns out, their goddess was a very old woman, and a mad woman at that. She claimed to be a Oracle of the God."

"An Oracle? You mean, someone that can see the future?"

"Exactly," Reynar said, nodding. "I didn't believe her at first, of course. But then she pulled this book out and offered me its secrets in exchange for peace with her people. That's when she told me the secret of the book. It had been written by Jocelyn d'Ontorio san Tumari. Do you know this name?"

"Of course!" Evelyn gasped. "She was the first Grand Master of the Emporium!"

Reynar smiled. "Very good. It was a book of her life's history and, consequently, the history of the Magi. It was then, sitting in that humid tent, with sweat pouring off my face, that I learned our deepest secrets. I learned that I was the descendant of a man who had betrayed everything. I was the descendant of Jon d'Thelas san Ronar."

"That must have been hard to accept," Evelyn said softly.

Reynar sighed. "You have no idea. I was...in a bad state for a long time before I could digest that. In any case, it turns out that the book had been passed down from generation to generation of the goddess' family. Jocelyn had chosen her family to safeguard her book because in their blood ran the gift of the Oracle. The goddess told me about her dreams and what I had to do to save this world. She requested that I stay with her for a year. To everyone else, I was merely learning about my heritage as a blood member of the tribes of Raves. However, I was really learning everything I needed to know to save the world."

"And your magic?" Evelyn asked.

Reynar tapped the book. "Jocelyn wrote about everything, including the spells she had learned. It's fortunate that the God blessed me with great intelligence because, otherwise, the advanced magic in this book would be unintelligible to me. With the help of the goddess, who knew all the book's secrets, I was able to master quite a few spells. However, I have yet to master the majority of the spells in that book."

"Why not?"

Reynar sighed heavily. "I suspect it's because Jocelyn was one of the original half-breeds. They had the blood of the Order of the 12 in their veins. That generation is far more powerful than ours. A lot of these spells require such a great amount of focus and mental stamina that I couldn't hope to possess."

"So that book would be useless to anyone but you," Evelyn said, musingly.

"For now," Reynar agreed, but he nodded down at her stomach. "But when your baby is old enough, this book will be our great hope. Your child will be able to easily master the spells in here. With it, your child can change the destiny of this world."

There it was. Evelyn now knew that the decision she made earlier was the right one. She opened her mouth to tell him but he suddenly held up his hand. "Wait, Evelyn, there is something I must confess to you."

"What?" she asked, apprehensively.

Reynar looked highly uncomfortable. He frowned down at his desk and shuffled some papers. "Evelyn...I wasn't going to tell you this until it was too late, but I've decided I've had enough with secrets. I know it may affect your decision, but it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Yes?" Evelyn prompted him when he fell silent.

He took a deep breath. "We both know that if you decide to marry me, it won't be about love. This is merely to protect your child and give it the chance to change this world. But if you do decide to marry me, there is something you must know. It concerns the future of the Lobare line."

He fell silent again. Evelyn let him collect his thoughts. She felt her heart flutter wildly in her chest. "It's very important that the king or queen carry on the Lobare line. It became of great importance when our treaty with the Magi Victus forced us to only have one child per Magi couple."

"That treaty extended to the royal line?" Evelyn gasped in shock.

"Surely you have noticed that there is only ever one heir? So to ensure that the line will survive, certain measures have been taken." Here he paused again before licking his lips and continuing. "We have to consummate our marriage on the night of the wedding," he said in a rush.

Evelyn felt her heart sink down into her stomach. "We...have...to...have sex?" she panted.

Reynar coughed roughly into his hand. "Yes," he gasped. "A physician will come examine you after the act to make sure the seed has...uh...taken root."

Evelyn shook her head wildly. "Can't you do something about that! You are the king!"

Reynar held up his hands helplessly. "It's the law! My advisors are already worried that I waited 200 years to get married. They will want to ensure my line will continue."

Evelyn stared at him in shock. She had only ever been with Daminus in her entire life. She wanted to keep it that way. She looked down at her stomach and patted it reassuringly. She had made a decision earlier. This new information couldn't change that. Could it?

Evelyn sighed. It was time to grow up and make the necessary sacrifices. "I've made my decision," she said quietly. She felt nauseated.

Reynar looked at her worriedly. "I can give you another day, if you need it. What I told you...it has to be a great shock for you, so soon after the death of your husband and soul-mate."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, my decision is set. Another day won't change it." Am I sure? This new information... Evelyn shook her head again. It had to be done.

"What is it?" Reynar asked nervously.

Evelyn said a quick prayer. "I...will marry you." Daminus, forgive me.

***

Chapter 14 - The Meeting: Sophina meets a mysterious stranger and learns shocking news. Only 6 more chapters left...



Shadow Dagger Ch. 14



Sophina paused outside the door to Jon's guest room, her hand raised to knock on the door. She lowered her hand slowly. An uneasy feeling had suddenly crept up on her. She remembered all too well the heated discussion Jon had had with Marcus earlier in the week.

She paused in the hallway, all thought of asking Jon to practice sword forms with her completely forgotten. Jon's voice was issuing loudly from his room. She meant to turn away when she suddenly understood what he was saying.

"Damn it, Marcus, I'm not asking you for much!"

Sophina paused, and against her better judgment, leaned closer to the bedroom door. She had to strain her hearing to catch Marcus' reply.

"You ask too much!" he hissed softly.

Sophina heard something that sounded like an angry growl. "I'm not asking you to go completely off the drug; I just want you to take it before you go to bed. That way it will take the edge off of your dreams but leave you lucid during the day."

"I don't take it just to take the edge off of my dreams," Marcus replied, his voice so quiet that Sophina had to press her ear against the door to catch it.

There was a long pause. "That's the sacrifice I'm asking you to make," Jon finally replied.

"Sacrifice?" Marcus repeated angrily. "How many sacrifices do you think I'm capable of making? You, of all people, should know better!" 

"I wouldn't ask this of you if I had any other choice! We are so close, Marcus! Please, I believe in you. I know you can do this. Please...I'm asking you as my brother."

"That was low, even for you," came Marcus' grumbled reply. Still, to Sophina's ears, it sounded like he was partly amused. She heard him give a great sigh. "I don't think it even matters anyways, Jon. My gift has been damaged from the constant use of the drug."

"It will come back to you in time," Jon replied hesitantly.

From the tone of Marcus' voice, Sophina could tell he was shaking his head. "My mind is scrambled. The spells I have tried recently have come to me in ways I don't remember. I think I nearly killed you and Ashford with my healing spell. It took a lot more of my energy than it should have. And then there was those Magi who followed Sophina."

"What about them?" Jon asked cautiously.

"I was just trying to wipe their minds. I wanted them to turn around and forget that they ever saw us. Instead, I blew open their heads! Do you really want me to use my magic and risk something happening to Sophina?"

Sophina didn't realize that she had been holding her breath. She let out a quiet sigh and waited nervously for Jon's response. "I...we don't have a choice, Marcus. I need you to protect Sophina. The task I gave her may very well be impossible. But if she had you by her side..."

"You just don't understand. Do you really think I'm different from the others? The only reason I didn't join them was because of the drug. I don't have any humanity, Jon. I feel that when I stop taking the drug."

"You are different!" Jon snapped angrily. "Why can't you see that? You have more humanity than most people I know! I will give you some time to realize that. Once you do, I expect you to use your magic to help us."

"Jon, I don't think--"

"Just do as I say!" Jon snapped. Sophina gasped and jumped back as Jon swung open the door. "Did you need something, Sophina?" His cold-blue eyes glinted with anger.

"N-no," she stammered. She turned around quickly and walked back to the living room, suppressing the urge to look back over her shoulder.

Sophina shook her head and brought her attention back to the present. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. If Jon trusted Marcus, then she did too. She waited patiently but there was no response. She knocked again, louder this time. Still no response.

"Marcus?" she whispered, as she slowly opened the door. "Are you awake?"

The room was dark. The only light was coming from the hallway behind the door she just opened. She could just make out a dark mound on the bed. She crept closer, all the while feeling distinctly uneasy. She stopped at the foot of the bed and cleared her throat. "Marcus?"

The mound shifted but Marcus didn't respond. Sophina walked around the bed and leaned over. "Marcus?" Her voice nearly startled her as it echoed around the room.

Marcus shifted again. Now that Sophina was closer, she thought she heard him mumbling. He shifted again and this time Sophina heard him groan loudly. Is he having a nightmare? Is it those dreams that Jon always talks about? I wonder if I should wake him.

Sophina swallowed. She needed to get to the meeting soon. She would just have to wake him. She prodded his body with her finger. "Marcus! Wake up!" Marcus only grunted louder and shifted restlessly on the bed. Sophina shook him hard. "Wake up!"

With a terrible roar, Marcus shot up, his hand closing around Sophina's throat with an iron grip. Sophina gagged as her body was lifted off the floor. Marcus was standing up, gold light shining from his eyes. Sophina kicked her legs feebly and scratched his hand desperately.

"Mmmmm!" was the only sound she could produce. Marcus' hand was crushing her throat as easily as a child would crush a bug. His golden eyes continued to bore into hers. Sweat was dripping from his face; a face that was pinched in pain. Sophina's mind was red with panic. She couldn't breath...she was going to die...

Black spots were swimming in her vision. She flung her hands everywhere, desperate to break his clutch. Her flailing hand brushed the hilt of her sword. She instinctively grabbed it and tugged with all her might. Due to her awkward position, she could only unsheathe a few inches of the blade.

The runes on the part of the blade that was exposed suddenly burst with silver light. She could feel the sword humming against her leg. The humming sound slowly grew louder, filling her mind with a strange music. It was blocking out her fear of death. The pain stopped. She could no longer feel Marcus' hand crushing her throat. 

The music reached it's peak and died instantly. Sophina fell to the ground, gasping hoarsely. She sucked in gulps of beautiful, beautiful air. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet as the air that now rushed down her lungs and filled her with precious life.

She scrambled back against the wall, rubbing her throat. She stared at Marcus through tear-filled eyes. Marcus was staring at his hands and shaking his head. He had dropped her the moment the music in her mind reached its peak. He looked up and Sophina gasped in relief; his eyes were no longer shining with golden light.

"What...where...what happened?"

You tried to kill me, you crazy bastard! Sophina rubbed her throat and stared angrily at him. "You almost killed me," she wheezed, her voice frighteningly hoarse. She prayed with all her might that he hadn't done any permanent damage.

Marcus shook his head. "No, no, I was dreaming!"

"You were dreaming. I tried to wake you up."

Marcus looked down at his hands again. "I told him it was a mistake," he whispered. He looked up at her again. "Please don't ever try to wake me up again," he growled.

"Fine," Sophina snapped, as she got to her feet. "I think I've decided I don't need your help, after all."

She brushed past him. His voice stopped her at the door. "You should let me heal that throat," he said quietly.

Sophina snorted. "You really are crazy, aren't you? Do you think I will let you near me now? Just keep your crazy magic to yourself."

Sophina stormed down the hallway and into the living room. She was just about to climb the stairs when his voice stopped her again. "Did Jon and Ashford already leave?"

"For your information--" Sophina began, turning around angrily. Her voice died away when she saw him standing in the hallway.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Sophina shook her head and stared at him again. The long, scraggly beard and hair was gone. His face was completely shaven and his hair was cut to his shoulders and held back in a ponytail. If his hair was cut shorter and he had a goatee, he would be the spitting image of Jon.

"What?" he asked again, as she continued to gape at him. He rubbed his face self-consciously. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Jon practically tied me down last night and shaved it off. He figured it would look very suspicious if you had a beggar following you around everywhere."

"Y-yes, that's...that's clever of Jon," Sophina stammered. 

She had never found herself particularly attracted to any man she had ever met, but Marcus was simply beautiful. His face was sharp and his lips were wide and firm. Whereas Jon had cold-blue eyes that could freeze you at a hundred yards away, Marcus possessed soft-blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean. His hair was a light brown with not a speck of gray in it. Despite the many years he must have spent as a beggar, his face was almost unlined. 

I wish I could be immortal!

"Do I look ok?" he asked nervously.

"Perfect," Sophina whispered. She shook head, hoping he didn't notice her redden cheeks. He looks so much like Jon...

"Listen, I'm very sorry about what happened." He shook his head and ran his hand carelessly through his thick brown hair. "I promised Jon that I would protect you and that's what I'm going to do. So please, can I take care of the injury I caused you? I don't think I could live with myself."

Sophina nodded before she even realized what she was doing. She felt a moment of panic as Marcus' eyes suddenly shone with golden light. Then she felt her throat loosen up. She swallowed and felt no pain. She rubbed in throat in wonder. "Thanks."

He waved away her apology. "You shouldn't have been hurt in the first place," he muttered. He stared down at his hands. "That was better."

Sophina watched him carefully. It appeared as though he was talking to himself. "The spell?" Sophina guessed.

Marcus nodded without looking up. "For a moment there, it felt natural. It's still not quite what it..." he trailed away, shaking his head. "So, what's our plan for today?"

"We have that meeting with Ashford's contact," she reminded him.

He nodded his head. "Ah, yes, now I remember. Are we leaving now? I need to change out of this sleeping gown if we are."

Sophina sat on a chair and had to wait only a few minutes before Marcus came back. He wore a rich silk tunic and leggings, which were tucked into dark brown boots. The blue silk matched his eyes perfectly. 

"Jon said it would be better if I appeared to be a nobleman and you my bodyguard."

"It makes sense," Sophina replied, remembering the role she played with Evelyn. She winced at the memory. It had been one of the worst days of her life.

Marcus held out his arms and examined his clothing with a dubious expression. "How Jon expects me to act like a nobleman, I've no idea. I haven't been a part of society in over 2,000 years. I'm afraid I might get us in trouble."

"Don't worry, I'll help you." As she said it, she marveled at how she had completely forgiven him for what happened earlier. He looked so lost, standing there in the rich set of clothing. He was sincere in his apology and she knew he really had no control over what happened. She felt pity for him as she stood there and watched him.

"I'll need all the help I can get," he chuckled. The smile that spread across his face transformed him and made him even more beautiful.

Sophina couldn't believe that the man standing before her was the same beggar from the night before. She shook her head in wonder. "We should get going."

***

The words seemed to hang in the air for a long time. Reynar simply stared at her, as though he hadn't heard a word.

"I will marry you," Evelyn repeated, this time with more conviction.

To Evelyn's surprise, Reynar's face sagged with relief. "Thank you, Evelyn," he said fervently. "You've no idea how nervous I've been this week. I feel like I just passed the first major hurdle in my pursuit to save the world."

"There are a few things I want to discuss first," Evelyn said. She avoided looking at Reynar's radiant expression. She still had her doubts.

"Of course," Reynar said, holding up his hands and smiling.

"First, I want to make it perfectly clear that I have no romantic feelings toward you." Evelyn gave him a stern look so that he understood the seriousness of her statement.

He nodded quickly. "No problem. I have no romantic feelings for you as well."

"Second, you will have very little say in how I raise my child."

This time, Reynar didn't look so happy. "Evelyn...for all intended purposes, your child will be my child as well. How can you ask me not to be a father? Am I suppose to ignore the child? Do you want the child to think he's unloved by his father?"

Evelyn looked away from his intense stare. She knew he would make those points. "Daminus is the father," she said quietly and somewhat stubbornly.

She looked back at him and saw a look of intense pity in his eyes. "For the safety of the child, he must never know who his real father is," he said compassionately.

Evelyn felt a small stabbing pain in her heart. She knew he was right. If anyone ever knew who the real father was, his claim to the throne would be in jeopardy. "Damn you," she whispered, not really knowing who she was talking to.

"I'm sorry," he replied. "It has to be this way."

Evelyn nodded wearily. "I know."

Reynar scratched at his desk idly with his fingernail and said, somewhat cautiously, "Is there anything else?"

Evelyn hesitated. She really didn't think there was any way out of it, but she figured it was worth a try. "Is it...is it really necessary to consummate the marriage?"

If Reynar's cheeks weren't so dark, she knew they would be red right now. "Well, I've thought about that, too. I'm sorry to say that there really isn't a way out of it. Since we're only allowed one child, securing the line of Lobare is of the utmost importance. This is taken very seriously, believe me."

Evelyn knew it had been pointless to ask. Still, it was very unsettling to think about. "Is there anyway we could fake it? Could you bribe the physician to say the marriage was consummated?"

Reynar was shaking his head before she had even finished talking. "Believe me, Evelyn, I thought of every possible angle. The current physician's whole life has been dedicated to ensuring my health and seeing to the continuation of my line. She couldn't be bribed with all the gold in Astuari. The royal physicians have been trained for centuries to ignore any blackmail attempts, as our enemies would love to see the line of kings ended. The physicians are extremely religious and are utterly dedicated to the line of Lobare."

Evelyn tried her best to smother her doubts. She nodded briskly at Reynar. "Then I will simply have to get use to the idea."

"I hope it won't be too horrible of an experience for you," Reynar said dryly.

Evelyn chuckled. "My liege, my reluctance has nothing to do with any doubts of your manhood. I'm simply still very much in love with my husband and I can't shake the feeling that I will betray him by doing this."

"I don't blame you," Reynar replied. "I knew Daminus well. He was a very good advisor to me and I miss his keen intellect. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yes," Evelyn said cautiously.

Reynar leaned back in his chair. "Tell me about him. Tell me how you met."

Evelyn hesitated for a brief moment. "Why?"

"Because I have the feeling I should get to know your husband," he said slowly. "I think it will help me better understand you, which will make our partnership better for both of us."

"Very well," Evelyn replied. "God knows I want to talk to somebody about him. His life should always be remembered by as many people as possible. How did we meet? We met as babies."

"Really?" Reynar laughed. "It makes sense!"

Evelyn allowed herself a small smile. "Yes, I guess it does. Our parents were very good friends. Daminus was only born a month before I was. Our parents were always getting together to socialize. They would put Daminus and me in the same crib while they talked. We were very rare, you see. Most Magi parents give their child to the Emporium to raise, as is custom. But our parents raised us themselves. As a result, there was hardly a day that went by where Daminus and I didn't play together."

"As we grew up, we maintained a very close relationship. In fact, people sometimes thought we were twins. We were hardly seen out of the company of each other. Nobody knew then that we were soul-mates, not even us. We had a very deep bond, but how deep we had yet to discover. Eventually, we both went to study at the Emporium at the same time."

"During those days, we didn't see each other as much as we would like. Daminus was a very gifted Magi and he advanced much faster than I did. However, no matter how busy we were, we would always meet up at night and walk along the garden paths of the Emporium. I was 75 years old when I realized I loved him in a romantic sense. When I plucked up the courage to tell him, he smiled at me and said 'About time. I knew I loved you when we were still in our crib.'" 

Evelyn stopped to wipe the tears from her eyes. Every memory of him was crystal clear, no matter how many years ago it happened.

"He was very smooth, wasn't he?" Reynar smiled.

Evelyn laughed. "You have no idea. Well, after that little confession, our relationship changed. We became even closer, if that was possible. We definitely felt a magical bond forming. It was then that we began to suspect that we were soul-mates. Daminus did some research and discovered that we had all the tell-tale signs of a soul-bonded couple. We were left with a difficult choice." Evelyn paused, suddenly struck by a thought. Her eyes widened in wonder.

Reynar noticed it, too. "It's ironic, isn't it? You faced the same dilemma that you do now. Do you consummate the relationship or not?"

Evelyn nodded her head, numbly. "Is this just a coincidence?" she whispered.

"I don't believe in coincidence," Reynar replied. "I believe the God has a plan for all of us."

Evelyn sat back in her chair, stunned into silence. She opened her mouth several times and closed it. "Where was I?" she managed to say.

"You faced a dilemma," Reynar said gently.

"Right...right," Evelyn said, shaking her head. "A soul-bond is not complete until the relationship is consummated. We knew the risks just as well as anybody did. After several weeks of thought, we threw caution to the wind and got married. I still remember our wedding night as though it was yesterday."

"I could only imagine what you experienced," Reynar said, his voice filled with awe.

"What both of us experienced can never be explained. I would argue that establishing a soul-bond is worth all the risks that come with it. We just didn't make love that night; we ascended into a different realm of passion. That night is still the greatest night in my life."

Silence fell between them. Evelyn's mind was full of the images of that night. Both of their souls had joined together. The physical sensations of their love-making paled in comparison to that union.

"It worked out for you once; do you think it can happen again?" Reynar asked.

Evelyn shook her head sadly. "I doubt it. This is completely different from completing a soul-bond."

"Then I will do my best to figure something out," Reynar said.

Evelyn stared at him, hardly daring to hope. "Truly?"

"I'm not promising anything, but I will try my best."

"That's all I can ask for," Evelyn replied, her shoulders sagging with relief. He's the smartest man I've ever met; if he says he will think of a way, then I know he will.

"And then you and Daminus went on to become legends," Reynar said, finishing her story for her. "Your exploits on the battlefield are very well known."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 14



"I worry about that, though" Evelyn admitted.

"Why?" Reynar asked, confused.

Evelyn searched for the right words to explain what she felt. "I met a servant here who shares my name. I never knew I was so famous here in the city. Now...they're about to find out that the soul-mate in those stories has died and I'm already marrying someone else."

Reynar shook his head immediately. "I think you're overlooking something very important; I am the king. The people will be captured by this new revelation, trust me. You will be even more well known, if anything."

Evelyn was simply dumbfounded. She had never thought about it from that angle. She knew, instinctively, that Reynar was right. "I finally understand that the stories of you, King Reynar, have not been exaggerated. You truly are the most intelligent man alive today."

Reynar smiled warmly at her. "Thank you for the compliment. Whether it's true or not, I don't know."

He really did have a warm smile, Evelyn had to admit. Maybe in another time and place she might have fallen for him. The thought struck her with a sudden feeling of pity. This man deserved more. "Aren't you sad?"

Reynar frowned at her. "Why would I be sad?"

"You're about to marry a woman who doesn't love you and who has just lost her soul-mate. Not only that, but she's also pregnant with her husband's child; a child you will claim for your own, thereby insuring that the line of Lobare dies with you."

"I've thought about that," he replied quietly. "Your child will be the future of this world. I'm not worried about continuing my line."

He sighed and stood up. He walked slowly over to the large windows. Evelyn got up and joined him. Neither one spoke for several minutes. Evelyn stared up at the night sky and wondered if the God truly had a plan for all of them.

"I was in love once," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He continued to stare out the window, as though his memories were etched upon the glass. "She was one of my instructors in the Emporium. I use to pray to the God every night that I be allowed to spend another day at the Emporium. I hoped, deep down, that I never had to take up the throne."

Evelyn glanced up at him. His dark face showed no emotion, but Evelyn could see the slight muscle twitches in his jaw. She knew he was really fighting to hold back his emotions.

"But of course, it was a hopeless wish. My father died a death I don't envy. I saw just how powerful love was as I watched him waste away from heartbreak. It...frightened me. So when I became king, I cut off all contact with her. It was the best thing for both of us."

Evelyn touched him gently on the arm. "She was a Magi; you could have married her and made her queen."

Reynar smiled down at her from his great height. "I could have, if this was a bard's song. There was no political advantage to be gained from marrying her. It would have never been allowed. My father was granted special permission to marry my mother. Everyone wanted that first war with Raves to end."

She paused, thinking over something he had just said. "If your mother was a non-Magi, then how is it you are a Magi? Shouldn't you have been a Magi Victus?"

"I love your keen wit," he said, smiling. "Yes, I would have been born a Magi Victus...if my mother had been a non-Magi."

Evelyn's eyes widened. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

He looked down at her. "I'm trusting you with a great secret. You deserve to know, seeing how you're about to become queen. Do you remember how I told you that Jocelyn gave her book to the family who had the blood of Oracles in their veins?"

"Yes," Evelyn said slowing. She thought she knew where he was going with this.

"Well, I sort of left out a key piece of information. The family she left the book to was her family. In the desert, the goddess rules because her family are Magi."

"There are Magi among the desert people?" Evelyn asked faintly. So many secrets!

"The tribes have no idea. It's a very dark secret. Only the goddess and her children know. When the goddess' daughter becomes a woman, she is sent to Astuari to seduce a Magi in order to get pregnant. As you know, many Magi men are susceptible to the charms of a non-Magi woman. My father was informed of this secret and he agreed to marry one of the goddess' daughters."

"But I haven't heard any of this!" Evelyn tried to get a grasp on yet another secret. What wasn't she ever told?

"Nobody knew she was my real mother," Reynar replied. "The Magi were led to believe that my mother was a Magi by the name of Solia Geris."

"I think I recall that name," Evelyn said, frowning thoughtfully.

"This was before your time so I'm not surprised that you don't really know who she is. My father took her into his service as a personal counselor, a position beyond that of the Magi council. Most Magi, however, thought he had taken her as a mistress so that the line of Lobare would be preserved. She was pregnant at the same time as my real mother, though not by my father. She was dark skinned but not as dark as my mother. Still, it was enough to pass casual observation. She was loyal to my father and kept the secret faithfully until the day she died."

"Was all this subterfuge necessary?" Evelyn asked as she massaged her head. Nothing was making sense anymore. Daminus, I miss our old life so much. I just want to be in your arms right now.

"Quite necessary," Reynar assured her. "The goddess had a vision of how this world would be saved. She knew that the next king of Astuari would have to be born from her blood. The vision showed her that this king would be very talented, which would be needed at this ending time. That king was me."

"How far back does this go?" Evelyn asked in utter disbelief.

Reynar chuckled. "I often wonder that myself. How many things must have happened to bring all this about? How hard was it to keep it secret? I know it killed my father to keep the secret safe. He loved my mother very much and it pained him to make people think she was just a woman he married for political purposes. Did you know that, growing up, I had to pretend that Solia was my real mother?"

"I can't imagine," Evelyn said, shaking her head. "Your poor mother couldn't even publicly acknowledge her own son. She had to go through so much, didn't she?"

"Yes," Reynar said quietly. He was silent for a moment as he stared off into the distance. He shook his head. "This, I think, is the last secret I have kept from you. I hope you see why it's necessary."

"I can't take any more secrets," Evelyn muttered. What can't I just live a normal life? What couldn't I have grown old with Daminus? She needed to change the subject before the grief could come back. "We were talking about your lost love, weren't we?"

"Sorry," Reynar chuckled. "I get carried away when I can finally reveal my secrets. I hope I haven't confused you. It's confusing to me, sometimes. I have so many secrets."

"Being King must be so complicated. I don't envy you," Evelyn said, shaking her head. "Your life is bound by so many rules and restrictions. I wish you could have had your love. I wish you didn't have the weight of the world on your shoulders." 

"Thanks," he muttered. "But I think I did the right thing. I don't want to ever end up like my father. I need to be strong for what's about to come. Love, at this time, would weaken me."

"Love doesn't weaken you; it strengthens you." Evelyn smiled sadly; that was one of Daminus' favorite sayings.

"I guess I will never know," Reynar lamented. "She died, you know, in the War of the Desert. A lot of Magi died in that war." He shook his head sadly and ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. "It's getting late Evelyn. Why don't you go to bed? The God knows I dumped a lot of information on you tonight. It's going to take you a while to process everything."

Evelyn squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry that you lost her. Goodnight, my liege."

"Evelyn," he said, grabbing her wrist and looking seriously into her eyes. "Be prepared; by this time tomorrow the whole city will know about our wedding."

"I'll be ready," she said, much more confidently than she felt. She honestly didn't know if she would ever be ready.

"Goodnight, Evelyn," Reynar said, releasing her wrist. He turned back to the window.

Evelyn stopped by the door and looked back at him. There was something sad about the way he was standing; she could almost see the pressure that was bowing his shoulders. With one last pitying look, she slipped out the door.

***

Ashford nearly sighed in relief when Jon slowed the horses down. Then again, he almost groaned when he realized it would be his turn shortly. Jon's silver-filled eyes turn slowly back to his normal ice-blue stare. He wiped his forehead and sat back against the bench.

"How're the horses?" Ashford asked, trying to delay the moment when he would have to take over.

"They're perfectly fine. It's my energy they're using, after all. And you know the spell protects their bodies from the wear-and-tear of running for so long."

"It's a good spell," Ashford admitted. And an incredibly hard one to learn! It doesn't help when Jon makes it look so easy.

Jon seemed to know what he was thinking. "You're getting better. I know the magic is hard to grasp, but you have a keen mind and plenty of mental stamina."

Ashford was glad it was nighttime; the darkness hid his blush. Jon didn't often throw praise his way. But when he did, it was enough to make Ashford swell with pride. And he knows it, too. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he's an excellent teacher. I wish he had taught me when I was growing up in the Emporium. I could have been Grand Master by now!

They listened to the crickets as the cart plodded along at a speed barely faster than a trot. Ashford was very familiar with the landscape from his many trips to the desert. He was simply amazed at how far they had come in just one day. Normally, it would have taken him three days of hard riding to get to this point.

Ashford saw the reigns in Jon's hands twitch as he prepared to hand them over. Ashford quickly searched his mind for something that would distract him. His first thought was the conversation they had left unfinished when they had camped earlier in the day. "So, Sophina really is in love with Evelyn, eh?"

Jon glanced at him sideways. "You don't still think I want her, do you?"

"No," Ashford said quickly. "I didn't really get that impression. Besides, didn't you tell me you were thinking about another woman? Sarah, wasn't it?"

Ashford immediately regretted bringing this up when he saw Jon's hands tighten on the reigns. However, when he spoke, his voice was quite calm. "Sarah was my wife."

"She's died, didn't she?" Ashford asked delicately.

"Obviously," Jon replied, as he continued to stare straight ahead.

Ashford hesitated. Jon was giving curt answers but he also wasn't telling Ashford to drop the subject. And, against his better judgment, Ashford was rather curious. He couldn't imagine the famous assassin being in love. "Tell me about her."

Jon turned his head and stared intently at Ashford. "Why?"

Ashford glanced away from that stare and shrugged his shoulders. "What else are we going to talk about?"

It appeared that Jon would rather not talk at all, as he just continued to drive the cart. Ashford was just about to offer to take over the reigns when Jon suddenly spoke. "She was the most beautiful woman I ever met. I knew I wanted to be with her when I was just a kid. We grew up together and were apprenticed to the same Order member. She was so much smarter than I was," he added, shaking his head.

"That's not possible," Ashford said, amazed. "You're the smartest person I know! And I was best friends with King Reynar!"

"She was smarter," Jon said, nodding his head absently. "The spell I used on the horses I learned from her. Our master highly disapproved of using spells on animals. She figured it out, though. She was always like that. I can't remember how many spells she invented on her own."

"Could she have killed you? You know, in a duel?"

"Probably," Jon admitted. "To be honest, I did advance quite a bit in the years before her death. But I didn't love her because of her power. She was the most generous and kind person you would ever meet. I felt like a better man because she loved me. I felt special."

Ashford heard the bitterness in Jon's voice but didn't remark on it. Ashford knew a thing or two about leaving demons in the past. "Did you marry her?"

"Yes. The decision almost cost me my life, however. My father, when he and the rest of the Order were actually around, strictly forbade me to marry her."

"I see," Ashford said, nodding. "It was because the God had commanded the Magi to mate only with non-Magi, right?"

"My father probably felt guilty that he had gone against the God's wishes by marrying another Order member. This refusal to let me marry Sarah was probably his last effort to live by the God's commands. The Order had lost most of their humanity by this time. My father must have clung to this last shred of humanity," Jon finished quietly.

"But you married her anyways?"

Jon nodded sadly. "I think that was what finally killed the humanity within my father. He had completely failed in his duties. Not long after, the Order disappeared for good. But I didn't care; I had my Sarah. Then after a few years, we had our little Mathus."

"Mathus?" Ashford asked, confused. "I thought you said your son's name was Tomar?"

Jon grimaced. "He changed his name years later."

"Why?"

Jon shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I...I'm done talking about this. And don't think I don't know what you're doing. It's your turn to drive the cart."

Ashford groaned as Jon pulled the cart over to the side of the dirt road they were traveling on. Jon hopped down and Ashford slide across the bench and took up the reigns. Jon walked around the cart and hopped onto the bench where Ashford was just sitting.

"You need the practice," Jon said. "Now, remember what I taught you. Organic Manipulation spells have to be modified based on the physiology of the species of animal you are casting the spell on. Do you remember the incantation and manipulation needed?"

Ashford didn't bother answering. He opened himself up to the magic and chanted the spell out loud. His fingers danced in the air as he shaped his words into being. Runes formed in the air in front of him and floated down onto the horses. The horses nickered and pawed the ground restlessly.

"Not bad," Jon admitted. "Though that manipulation would be better used on goats. Still, the spell will work well enough."

Goats? How does this man know that? Shaking his head, Ashford snapped the reigns and held on tight as the horses thundered into the night.

Ashford led the horses down the narrow dirt road. He was familiar with the surrounding countryside but he had never traveled down this road before. He always stuck to the main road. Still, he was reasonably confident of where he was at. Off to his right, the Forest of Autumn stretched as far as the eye could see. Judging by their current pace, they would pass the edge of the forest by tomorrow. The land would then gradually change from lush green vegetation to sparse grass. The sparseness of the countryside would then gave way to sand and dirt and the oppressive heat of the desert.

Jon's head was nodding up and down on his chest as the cart continued to thunder on. The sun was just cresting the horizon, casting it's reddish glow on the world, when Jon's head snapped up. "That's good for today," he told Ashford.

Ashford let go of his magic with relief. He slowed the horses down and led them to the forest, as they had done the night before. Once they stopped, he jumped down and stretched his back. He saw to the horses while Jon began to make their supper.

"I'm sorry for all this," Ashford whispered to the horses, as he rubbed them down.

The horse nearest to him nickered softly and bumped its head into his side. Ashford chuckled and patted the horse on the head. He slipped feed bags over their mouths before taking the tent out of the cart.

He was just hammering the pegs into the ground with a mallet when Jon spoke suddenly. "Have you ever been in love?" he asked, as he stirred the pot that hung over the fire. "You're 200 years old and you've never married. I was just wondering."

Ashford set the mallet down on the grass and looked over at Jon. What a peculiar question. "No, never been married," Ashford replied, shaking his head ruefully. "I've been with my fair share of women, mind you. The Magi, as you probably know, aren't nearly so prudish when it comes to sex. After all, we have a very limited selection to chose from. So we tend to have some fun before we settle down."

"I see you never settled down," Jon said, smirking.

Ashford laughed. "Yeah, I guess I haven't. I just haven't met the right woman, that's all. So I might as well keep having my fun," he added, winking over at Jon.

Jon shook his head and chuckled. "What about Sophina then? I've seen the way you look at her."

Ashford felt his good humor fade. "I'm not going to lie; I did start to develop some strong feelings for her. She's quite unlike any of the women I've ever know. She's feisty, you know?"

"I know," Jon said quietly. "She reminds me a lot of Sarah, to be honest."

Ashford held his breath, hoping Jon would continue his story from where he left off. Jon stirred the stew absently, his gaze looking beyond the fire. "In what way?" Ashford asked carefully.

"They're both fighters," Jon replied, his gaze still locked on the fire. "They're both graceful when they fight. Sarah could weave her magic like it was a dance. I use to love watching her fight."

Ashford said nothing. He knew if he said anything he would snap Jon out of his trance. Jon continued. "Even in my anger and grief, I still thought she was beautiful when she saved my life. I hated her for that; for letting me live. It would have been the end of my pain. But I've had to carry it around for all these years. I think that was why I hated her so."

Ashford heard the great pain in Jon's voice. He suddenly knew this is why Jon had told them earlier that he was broken. Sarah had somehow betrayed Jon and broken his heart. Ashford wasn't sure if he wanted to hear anymore, but his curiosity was still very strong. "You hated her?" he asked, when he knew Jon wouldn't continue without prodding.

Jon looked up suddenly and stared shrewdly at Ashford. "Why are asking me about her? Does my pain entertain you?"

Ashford shook his head, horrified. "No! Why would you ask that? I just want to know more about you, that's all. I want to understand you."

Jon stirred the stew vigorously. "It's done," he said.

Ashford nearly sighed. He knew he wouldn't get anymore out of Jon this night. "Good, I'm hungry."

They were silent for a time as they settled in to eat. "We're making good time," Jon said, around a mouthful of stew.

"I would've never thought it possible," Ashford replied, shaking his head. "We'll be in the desert in a couple of days."

"Then we'll get our answers," Jon said quietly, as he stared off into the distance.

"What do you think we're going to find?"

Jon chewed his stew thoughtfully before answering. "I'm not entirely sure yet. But I do have my suspicions."

"And those are...?" Ashford asked.

Jon shook his head. "I don't want to say just yet. I want to see how it goes first. What do you think we're going to find there? What do you know about this goddess?"

Ashford hesitated. Why am I keeping this secret? Reynar already betrayed me. Putting aside his bowl of stew, Ashford faced Jon squarely. "I didn't tell you the entire truth about Reynar's history. I've kept his secret for so long it just became second nature. I'm sorry."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 14



Jon stared at him for several long moments before smirking. "Are you referring to that fact that Reynar's mother was actually a Magi from the desert?"

Ashford wouldn't have been surprised if his jaw hit the ground. "You knew? How?"

Jon shrugged. "I knew instantly when you told us about his father marrying a woman from the desert. I remembered then the rumors all those years ago of how King Roland had taken a Magi mistress to bear him his heir. I never for a moment believed that Reynar's mother was some Magi mistress. His dark skin practically shouted the truth. And since he wasn't born a Magi Victus, I knew his mother had to be a Magi."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ashford blurted out in shock.

"I wanted to see what you would say. I knew you still retained some loyalty to Reynar. I wanted to know if I could trust you."

"And do you?" Ashford asked, swallowing nervously.

Jon laughed. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

Ashford paled, which only caused Jon to laugh louder. "I don't see the humor in this! You're a sick, sick man!"

Jon continued to chuckle for several moments. "Sarah always did say I had a morbid sense of humor."

Predictably, Jon fell silent as soon as he mentioned his dead wife. Ashford waited in vain for him to continue. I guess I'm not that lucky. "Do you mind if I ask how long ago she died?"

"She died at the last battle of the War of the Gods," Jon said quietly, as he stared into his bowl of stew. "Why do you ask?"

"Have you ever been with another women since then?"

Jon looked at him and smirked. "I'm still a man, you know. I may be broken but I still have my urges. I've had a few lovers over the many years since Sarah died. I never got close to any of those women, of course."

"Do you think you will ever love again?" Ashford asked daringly.

Jon shook his head. "I don't even know if I will survive to see the world saved. If I do, I have other plans to take care of first."

"Like what?" Ashford asked, intrigued. 

"Let's get some sleep," Jon said instead. He made his way into the tent without another word.

Ashford sat by the fire and listened to the early morning sounds of the forest. Despite the beauty and the quiet of the forest, he couldn't figure out what it meant to love as much as Jon had loved Sarah. He would never be so foolish as to give his entire heart to someone. He refused to think about Sophina as he thought this. Shaking his head, Ashford kicked some dirt over the fire and slipped inside the tent.

***

Sophina could hear the raucous laughter and the tinkling of cups as she stood before the tavern door. Even during the middle of the day, men would still drink and gamble. She couldn't remember ever feeling so frighten. No, that wasn't quite true. She always felt like this before any battle she fought in. Was that what this was?

"Don't worry," Marcus said calmly. "You'll be fine."

"I hope so," Sophina muttered. She opened the door and walked inside.

The laughter and shouting cut off instantly. The entire tavern looked over at her. She could see the hard eyes of a warrior on every single person in the tavern. Sophina swallowed nervously and clutched the grip of her sword tightly. "Hello...I'm looking for Peron, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Snake."

Dark eyes stared at her intently. She was reminded vividly of her time in the War of the Desert, for every single person in the tavern had dark skin and dark eyes. Every single person was a desert warrior from the country of Raves.

"I think you're lost, my lady," a man said into the quiet of the tavern. Several people laughed. Sophina followed the gaze of many of the warriors to a man sitting at a table in the back of the tavern. She could just make out a bald head from where she stood. She made her way quickly to his table, Marcus following close behind.

She stopped behind the bald man, who was playing dice with several other warriors. He did not turn around to face her. "Are you Chieftain Peron?"

The man tossed some silver on the table. "That depends on who's asking," he said, his back still turned. "It's your throw, Junta." The man he addressed did not throw the dice; he stared boldly up at Sophina. Anger was plain on his face.

"My name is Sophina Crews. I was told you could help me."

The man chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind when pretty ladies, such as yourself, come looking for me. But what do I want with some Astuarian whore?"

Marcus made to push past Sophina. "I'm going to teach you some--"

"No, Marcus," Sophina said sternly, holding out her arm to block his way. Her fear had left her now. She was in her battle trance. The blood was pumping through her body like fire. "Ashford Caulston sent me to see you."

This finally got the man to turn around. As much as she despised the people of Raves, Sophina had to admit that the man was handsome, even with the long, white scar that ran from the corner of his mouth all the way to his ear. "Ashford sent you? Now, now, that's a surprise. I haven't seen Ashford these last few years. Do you know why that is?"

Sophina had been warned about this. She had her answer ready. "Probably because you were cast out when King Reynar negotiated the terms of your surrender."

Peron didn't say a word or make a movement; yet Sophina could sense the sudden danger emanating from this man. His eyes alone would be enough to drop a lesser man to his knees. Well, Sophina was no man and she wasn't about to quell beneath his look.

"You've got guts," Peron finally said. His sudden smile shocked Sophina. "And a nice body, too, I must say." He winked suggestively.

Sophina was too use to this sort of behavior to be bothered. "Can you help me or not?"

Peron studied her shrewdly. His eyes lingered on her chest. Sophina crossed her arms to block his view, even though she was wearing a thick tunic. "I admire Ashford Caulston. I like his courage. But that doesn't mean I give a damn about his friends."

"You haven't heard my offer," Sophina suggested.

His eyes betrayed his sudden interest, even as he kept his voice casual. "It would take a hell of a lot for me to help out an Astuarian. Though," he added, his eyes roaming over her body, "I am open to certain kinds of persuasion."

"Well, that's good," Sophina replied, dropping her voice to a seductive whisper. She leaned down and put her face close to his. "Because I have the...goods I think you want."

Peron smiled slowly, showing startlingly white teeth. The scar on his face tightened, giving his smile a sort of sinister twist. "Perhaps we could discuss the terms of our arrangement up in my personal quarters."

"Oh, I think your men will want to witness this," she said, louder than before. She saw several smiles break out over the room.

Peron, however, frowned. "I don't share. I have a dreadful case of jealously, you see. I'm afraid several men could attest to that...if they were still alive." Laughter broke out among his men.

"You'll want to share this," she assured him. "Isn't revenge against King Reynar something you all long for?"

The room was suddenly filled with a quiet and deadly silence. Peron was no longer smiling. He touched the scar on the side of his face. "What did you say?"

Sophina looked around the room, making sure every set of eyes were on her. "That's why I need help. I want to overthrow King Reynar."

Peron stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. The room was suddenly filled with the scraping of chairs as everyone stood up. Peron towered over her. She had to crane her head up to look him in the eyes. "That's a dangerous offer," he replied quietly. His eyes bored into hers. "That's the kind of offer that could get us all killed. This little tavern here is all you Astuarians will give us. We're not welcome in this city. So be very careful of what you say."

"I thought you were dangerous men," she said, shaking her head. "I thought you were deadly mercenaries; the best of the best. Well, if you like escorting fat merchants and their carts, then I will leave you to it."

She turned around to leave but knew he would stop her. She wasn't disappointed. "I said your offer was dangerous; that doesn't mean I didn't want to hear it."

Sophina turned back around. "I need your mercenary army. I will pay you whatever you want." She lifted the bag of gold off her belt and tossed it to him.

He opened the bag and looked inside. He whistled softly. "You know, I think you might be serious."

"There's a lot more where that came from," Sophina promised. "You'll need it to buy supplies to outfit your army and for whatever strategy you come up with."

Peron looked up and exchanged looks with the men around his table. He turned back to Sophina and tossed the bag of gold back to her. "Tempting, but no thanks. You'll need more than my men to go up against him."

"I have a plan," Sophina replied. "I just need to get through his defenses. I can take care of him myself," she added, tapping the sword on her side.

Peron looked at her and threw back his head and laughed. "You think you can challenge the greatest Magi your country has ever produced? Even if he doesn't use magic, did you know he is a master swordsman?" He touched the scar on his face. "I would know."

"I'm not worried about his magic," she replied calmly. "And I'm not too bad with a sword, myself."

The entire room erupted with laughter. Peron slapped his legs and bent over, trying desperately to catch his breath. Sophina endured this with stony silence. Finally, Peron rose back up and wiped his eyes. "You're something else, you know that? I've never met anybody who was a crazy as you and that's saying something."

"You could ask the people I fought how good I am...if they were still alive." Sophina saw Marcus smirk out of the corner of her eye.

Peron shook his head. "Is that so? I'll tell you what; if you defeat me in a duel, I will happily go along with your insane plan. Deal?"

Sophina had to try hard to suppress her sudden smile. This was exactly what she was hoping for. He had no idea what he just got himself into. She held out her hand. "Deal."

Peron grinned and shook her hand. "There's a yard right outside this tavern. Shall we?"

Sophina nodded and followed him outside of the tavern. Marcus leaned in close to whisper to her. "Are you sure about this? Peron was the Chieftain of the entire tribes during the War of the Desert. His skill in combat must be great."

"Don't worry," Sophina whispered back. "My sword will slice through his sword as easily as it would through air."

"True," Marcus whispered, sounding relieved.

Several of Peron's men cheered him on as they made their way across the yard. The sun was still high in the sky with no clouds in sight. The yard consisted of a large circle of grass enclosed by a wooden fence. Several boxes from the tavern were stacked up against the back of the tavern wall. The desert warriors formed a ring along the fence, leaving a clear space in the middle.

"This contest is to first blood," Peron informed her. "I have only been cut once in my life." He pointed to the long scar on his cheek. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Just be ready," Sophina warned him.

Peron chuckled. He withdrew a longsword from a scabbard on his side. He wore no armor; just a dark brown tunic and trousers. The desert people despised armor. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Sophina took a steadying breath and withdrew her sword. She could feel it hum slightly in her hand. She smiled. "I'm ready."

The words had barely left her mouth when Peron suddenly charged. She had almost forgotten had good the warriors of Raves were. They were quick on their feet. Peron, however, was lightning to their quick. Sophina wasn't worried, however; she trained with Jon Laurent.

She smiled as she brought her sword up to make the first block. The swords met; magic flared.

Sophina gasped; his sword was locked together with hers. It was still intact.

"How...?" she breathed.

Peron looked just as startled as she did. The runes on Sophina's blade were flared with silver light. Sophina's eyes lingered on his sword. On the runes that covered it.

"Well played," he said, winking. He stepped back and brought his sword down. "I think I underestimated you. You must be a fine warrior to have earned a Magi blade."

Sophina looked over at Marcus. He was shaking his head, his eyes wide. "I couldn't feel the magic of his blade because of yours!"

"It's a Magi blade?" she asked incredulously.

Marcus nodded. "It's nowhere near as fine as yours, of course. But, yes, it's a Magi blade."

Peron had been following their conversation with his head cocked to the side. "Who is that?" he said, nodding over at Marcus.

"You should be worried about me," Sophina said, nowhere near as confident as she was before.

"I guess I should," he said, still smiling. "Shall we? I haven't been this excited since...I fought King Reynar."

Sophina charged him this time as he spoke. Her sword was a blur in her hands as she remembered her sword training with Jon. She moved into the steady rhythm of the deadly dance. Peron matched her, stroke for stroke. Sophina constantly darted around, looking for any sign of weakness. There was none.

Through the flashes of light brought on by the clash of Magi blades, Sophina could see stark admiration on Peron's face. Sophina was comforted to know that he was fighting with all his skill. 

She paid no attention to the people around her as she continued to circle him, her sword darting and weaving. His defense was perfect. He truly was a master swordsman.

Sophina knew she couldn't last much longer. As much as she had advanced in her training with Jon, Peron had several years of this type of fighting experience. Desert warriors were trained from birth to be as fast as lightning and as deadly as desert snakes. She wouldn't last much longer. Her defense would start to slip.

That thought brought an idea to her like a strike of lightning. She remembered the last time she had fought somebody who's defense appeared to be wearing down. Jon had taught her a valuable lesson that day. It would be risky, but it was her only chance.

Sophina slowed down her strikes. Her parries were just a tad slower than they were before. Her defense was getting slower. His blade was getting closer and closer to her body. With a jolt of excitement, she could see the eagerness in his eyes. He was underestimating her again.

After several more intense encounters, Sophina left him an opening he couldn't pass up. She saw the flash of victory in his eyes as his sword darted forward. He thought she was exhausted, that her reaction time wasn't what it was before.

Well, he was right. Sophina was more exhausted than she thought. She winced as his blade cut through the tunic on her side. She felt a flash of pain and the warmth of the blood that poured out.

The problem for Peron was that, though her reactions weren't as fast as she thought they would be, they weren't as slow as he thought they would be. He stared at her, dumfounded, as blood poured down from the cut on his good cheek.

"A draw," he whispered, amazed.

Sophina winced and grabbed her side. "Looks like it."

It was only then that Sophina realized how silent the yard was. She looked around and saw looks of deep respect on the faces of the warriors surrounding her. They clapped slowly. It was a mark of respect rarely shown to Astuarians.

"It looks like we're your men," Peron breathed. He continued to look at her in amazement. "I don't know about you, but I would love to throw you down on my bed right now."

Sophina smiled. The first phase of the plan was complete.

***

Note: I hope you all enjoyed the character building in this chapter. I wanted my characters to have a relatively quiet chapter to reflect on matters such as love because, boys and girls, from here on out it's going to be insanely action-packed until the final chapter. I hope you all can hold your breath for 6 more chapters!

Chapter 15 - The Wedding; need I say more? Ok I will. Jon and Ashford reach the desert and find a welcome party waiting for them...



Shadow Dagger Ch. 15



"Anything yet?"

Marcus shook his head. Sophina sighed and leaned back against the alley wall. "Are we going to be here all day? We have to be done by nightfall, you know."

"What do you want me to say?" Marcus replied, his eyes still locked on the street in front of him.

"Why can't we walk through the city? Surely it will be easier to spot one then."

Marcus sighed. "I told you already; they stay away from large crowds. Our best bet is to wait somewhere where they think they're not being watched. Besides," he added, looking back at Sophina, "we would attract a lot of attention with him following us around."

Sophina looked behind her. Peron, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Snake from the desert country of Raves, grinned devilishly. "I can't help it if women stare at me all the time." He winked at Sophina.

Sophina restrained from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty. She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Did you have to come with us?"

Peron trailed his hand across the brick wall as he stalked closer to her. "You hired me, remember? I need to know what's going on if I'm going to help you. Besides, I knew you were going to miss me," he added quietly, as he leaned toward her ear. "I didn't want to put you through that pain."

"How fortunate for me, then," Sophina replied sarcastically. "My knees are weak with gratitude."

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," he teased, his breath hot on her cheek.

Sophina turned her head and looked him in the eyes. His lips were mere inches away from hers. She almost smiled at the look of hunger that shone from his eyes. 

"Nice scar," she smirked.

Peron chuckled and backed away. He rubbed the stitches on the side of his cheek. "I should thank you for that. I think this scar will finally balance out my face. Though it's not nearly as long or fine as the scar Reynar gave me."

"Keep trying to tumble me into your bed and I'll improve it for you," Sophina replied, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"And what a prize that would be," he replied happily.

This time Sophina did roll her eyes. Did nothing deter this man? She decided to ignore him as she turned back toward Marcus. "See anything yet?"

"I think I would have told you if I did," Marcus muttered.

Sophina cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Was that an attempt at humor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marcus replied, without looking back at her.

Sophina smirked as she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. It was nice to take a moment of peace for herself. She just hoped today's little adventure actually went according to plan. They couldn't afford to waste many days.

The thought barely had time to form in her mind when Marcus said sharply, "I found one."

Sophina pushed herself off the wall quickly and joined Marcus at the edge of the alley. Peron hovered by her shoulder. "Where?" she asked.

"The one in the plain brown clothing," Marcus whispered. "He's over by that merchant cart with the apples. Do you see him?"

Sophina spotted the man he was referring to. He was examining apples from a merchant's cart. He was of average height with short brown hair and wore plain clothing. His plain brown cloak hid any possible weapon that might be hanging on his hip.

"Are you sure?" Sophina asked.

"Quite sure," Marcus replied firmly. "I can feel it from here. I've always been sensitive to their weapons."

"Who is this man?" Peron asked suspiciously, for what had to be the hundredth time. He was starting to get angry.

Sophina tried her best to keep the smirk off of her face. "Never you mind," she replied coldly. Let him stew on that!

"Let's just get this done, then," he replied grumpily.

"Remember the plan," Marcus reminded them.

Sophina nodded and pulled up the hood on her blue cloak. She kept it tight around her body to hide the sword on her hip. She stepped out onto the road and made her way towards the man.

Marcus was right, it seemed. The Merchant Quarter was a good spot for this part of the plan. 

I guess even Magi Victus have to do some shopping.

Sophina stopped at the apple cart and nonchalantly picked up an apple. She glanced sideways at the man in the plain brown clothes. He set down the apple he was examining and apologized to the merchant for not buying anything today. Sophina smiled; it seemed like the plan was already working.

Sophina waited a few seconds before carefully following him. She didn't want to make it too obvious nor did she want to not let him know that she was following him. The man played out the charade well. He stopped at several carts and booths and took his time to examine the merchandise. 

The Merchant Quarter was busier at this time of day than it usually was. Most of the people wanted to get their shopping done before nightfall. The curfew imposed for the duration of the war was bound to be bad for business, Sophina mused. Most of the people in the Quarter were looking around nervously and weren't stopping to strike up conversations. The entire square full of carts and booths was lacking its usual hum of conversation.

Eventually, the man made his way into an alleyway between two shops. Sophina sped up her pace and quickly followed him. She ducked into the alley was not surprised to suddenly feel a hand grab her throat and slam her against the wall.

"Why are you following me?" the man growled. His dark eyes stared murderously into hers.

A pitch-black Shadow Dagger was pressed against her throat.

The people in the alleyway quickly scattered, none of which would bother to summon the city guard. Sophina had expected this but her body still shook with fear. She tried not to look down at the Shadow Dagger. 

"I just want to talk."

"Give me one good reason," he rasped. The dagger pressed harder into her throat.

"How's this?" a voice said from behind him. A sword came to rest against his neck.

The Magi Victus' eyes widened in shock. "How--"

"You're not the only one who's light on his feet," Peron said, his dark, smirking face appearing over the Magi Victus' shoulder. "So you're a Magi Victus, huh? I have to tell you, I'm not really impressed."

The hand disappeared from Sophina's throat faster than she thought possible. There was a clang of metal before Sophina had the time to draw her sword. She hurriedly unsheathed her sword and shoved the point against the Magi Victus' back. "Don't move!"

"My, my, you're fast," Peron huffed. His face was strained as he held the Shadow Dagger inches away from his neck with his sword. He had somehow managed to block it at the last second.

"This is pointless," the Magi Victus said calmly. "I could kill you both before you could so much as blink. Lower your weapons and I promise to let you go free."

"He's a cocky one, isn't he?" Peron chuckled, his eyes glancing over the Magi Victus' shoulder and directly at Sophina.

Sophina could see the strain in his eyes. She couldn't help but admire his courage. "I think you overestimate your position, Magi Victus. We're the ones who have the upper hand here." She dug the tip of her sword into his back for emphasis.

"You're beginning to piss me off," the Magi Victus growled. "The only reason you're still alive is because I want to know how you found me."

"They weren't the ones who found you," a voice said softly. Marcus walked calmly from the entrance of the alley toward the Magi Victus.

Sophina could feel the Magi Victus tense. He was about to try something stupid. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she warned him.

The Magi Victus snorted. "Three against one is still good odds for me. You people really have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

Sophina gasped as she suddenly stumbled forward. The Magi Victus had vanished. She heard a yelp coming from Peron's direction as she whirled around. Peron was standing with his mouth open and a hand pressed to the side of his neck. Blood was leaking through his fingers. The wound didn't seem fatal. Sophina followed his gaze.

Marcus held the Magi Victus' wrist grasped tightly in his hand. The Shadow Dagger was pointed up toward the sky. 

"Who are you?" the Magi Victus gasped, his voice filled with awe.

Marcus' soft-blue eyes were staring sternly into the Magi Victus'. "It's about time you listen to us, son," Marcus said quietly.

Sophina saw Peron turn toward her out of the corner of her eye. He opened his mouth, the question plain in his eyes. She held up her hand. "Later," she promised him. He nodded.

"What do you want?" The Magi Victus was unable to keep the fear out of his voice. Sophina shuddered. She never thought she would see the day when she heard fear in a Magi Victus' voice.

Marcus looked over at Sophina. She nodded at him and walked around to look at the Magi Victus. The man was still struggling to break Marcus' grip on his wrist. Marcus might as well have been restraining a child for all the strain that showed on his face.

"What's your name?" Sophina asked kindly.

The Magi Victus stared at her angrily for several moments. She saw Marcus' grip tighten on his wrist. He grimaced in pain before replying, "Lauden! My name is Lauden."

"I want you to deliver a message for me, Lauden," Sophina replied.

"Do I look like a messenger?" he growled.

Sophina saw the anger that flared across Marcus' face. Sophina grabbed his arm and shook her head. Marcus breathed out and nodded. She turned back toward Lauden. 

"I'm sorry, but I need a Magi Victus to deliver a message to Sanje and Raynolt."

The man stared at her shrewdly. "I don't how you know we're working with that Magi, but I intend to find out."

"This man has no fear of death," Peron said, his hand still held tightly against his neck. "He has the heart of a true warrior. We can't persuade him with bodily harm. We should just cut our losses and try to grab another one."

"But I know of fates worse than death," Marcus suddenly rasped, his voice filled with a menace that Sophina had never heard. She watched him uneasily as he brought Lauden's wrist down toward his own chest.

"What are you doing?" Lauden asked. Sophina almost gasped at the naked fear in his voice.

Marcus brought the wrist across his body and rested the Shadow Dagger against Lauden's chest. "I know you don't fear death, Magi Victus. What is death compared to the making of your Shadow Dagger? Oh yes," Marcus laughed, as Lauden's eyes bulged in fear, "I know the secret behind this dagger."

"You do?" Sophina asked, amazed. "What didn't you tell me this?"

"It's not my secret to tell," Marcus replied, his eyes never leaving the petrified face of the Magi Victus. "I know the making of a Shadow Dagger...and I know the unmaking of it, too. I suggest you loosen your tongue."

"Please," Lauden begged. He sounded like he was on the verge of weeping. His eyes were darting frantically in his head.

"Will you do as we ask you?" Marcus asked softly.

Lauden nodded vigorously. "Yes, anything! What message do you want to send?"

"Tell Sanje and Raynolt that Sophina Crews wants to meet with them," Sophina said quickly. "Tell them to come alone to the Snakepit. It's a tavern in the Market Quarter. They're to met us tomorrow at noon. Do you understand?"

"Sophina Crews. Snakepit. Tomorrow at noon. I got it," Lauden said quickly.

"Good. Marcus, release him."

Marcus stared coldly down at Lauden for several moments. Sophina touched his arm and looked up into his face. Pure fury and hatred were stamped into the planes and angles of Marcus' ageless face. 

"Marcus?" she said worriedly.

Marcus blinked. He shook his head slowly. "Sorry," he muttered. He let go of the Magi Victus.

Lauden immediately rubbed his wrist and darted out of the alley. Sophina watched him quickly disappear into the crowd. She turned back toward Marcus. 

"Is everything all right?"

Marcus rubbed his face. "I'm fine."

Sophina bit her lip. "Do you...need some more of the drug?"

"No," Marcus said quickly. And then quieter, "No, I'm...I'm good. Just a little tired I guess."

"Now can you tell me who this man is?" Peron demanded. He took his hand off his neck and grimaced at the blood staining his hand. "Cut twice in the last two days," he muttered angrily. "I must be losing my touch."

"Later," Sophina repeated. "Once we're back in the hideout." She looked out past the alley and into the crowd. "I hope this works," she whispered.

"It's a good plan," Marcus reassured her. "Jon said it was our best chance at mounting a resistance."

"I know," Sophina sighed. "I feel dirty for having to resort to this."

"I always find that a nice, relaxing bath with a beautiful woman helps me feel better about myself," Peron offered, his voice hopeful.

Sophina shook her head in disgust as she walked out of the alley.

***

Raynolt slammed his office door and immediately started to pace around the room. 

What is that man thinking? Why is my knowledge always lacking now? I spent so many years planning. 

"It's all wasted!" Raynolt growled.

Lenard, who had silently followed Raynolt into the room before he slammed the door, interrupted his thoughts. "I don't see how this disrupts our plans."

Raynolt whirled around angrily. "Are you a fool? Why would Evelyn Ventus marry him so soon after she lost her soul-mate? They're planning something, you imbecile! And, once again, I'm completely blind!"

"I'm not saying this situation isn't odd. I, like the rest of the council, am completely bewildered by his decision to marry Evelyn. And I have no doubt that this is part of whatever plan he has. But, again, I don't think this will disrupt our plans."

"How can it not?" Raynolt growled angrily. "Everything that man does makes no sense! How can we counter that?" 

Raynolt turned away and resumed his pacing. Reynar was really starting to baffle him. He had summoned the entire council and, without warning, calmly informed them that he was marrying Evelyn!

"That damn bitch!" Raynolt snarled suddenly, stopping in front of Lenard. "Who is she? How did she suddenly develop such great power? She's a 5th Tier Magi for God's sake! Yet she handled me like I was a lowly apprentice!"

"I don't know," Lenard said slowly. "But it definitely has something to do with Reynar's plans. He wouldn't be marrying her otherwise. But, Grand Master, you continue to see this as a problem. I see this is an opportunity!"

"What opportunity?" Raynolt asked quickly, his eyes searching Lenard's face desperately.

"Reynar's strength comes from his isolation. We now know that those shields protecting him were nothing but a ruse, designed to keep us looking away from the truth. Reynar needs only himself, you see? His brilliance is unmatched."

"What's your point?" Raynolt snapped. He didn't like the praise Lenard was heaping on Reynar.

"A man's brilliance is dulled by the comparative lack of intelligence from the people around him. You see, Reynar's invulnerable because he keeps to himself. We can't outsmart him. But now he has formed some type of partnership with Evelyn! She's a weak link in his armor. Whatever he has planned, he has to involve her now!"

"Evelyn is now his weakness," Reynar breathed excitedly. His plans were already reshaping themselves in his mind. "We can get to him through her. How do we use her is the question..."

"I leave that up to your brilliant mind, Grand Master," Lenard said. "All I can offer is what you already know; Evelyn is not nearly as invulnerable as Reynar."

Reynar nodded absently. His mind was already busy plotting his next step. "Ok, the first thing--" Reynar cut off as the wards on his door glowed. "Why did he have to come now?" Reynar whispered angrily.

He briefly opened himself up to the magic and waved a spell at the door. The runes settled over the glowing wards. The wards flashed silver and dulled into gray. Somewhere, the 10th Tier Magi he had guarding his rooms just received the signal to open the ward.

"Come in," Reynar said.

Sanje opened the door quickly and slipped inside. When the door shut, the runes flashed again and glowed silver; his Magi had resumed the warding spell.

"What is it, Sanje? I'm quite busy at the moment."

Sanje stepped closer toward Raynolt and cast a wary look at Lenard. Lenard's smile showed all of his teeth. Sanje's hand rested on the hilt of his Shadow Dagger. 

"I was hoping to find you alone," Sanje said, his eyes never leaving Lenard.

Raynolt waved his hand carelessly. "You can trust him. What do you want?" Raynolt thought he saw a flicker of surprise cross Lenard's face. It was replaced by something that resembled a smirk.

Sanje snorted and turned away from Lenard. "I had an interesting conversation with one of my men just now. He was attacked in an alley in the Market Quarter."

"So?" Raynolt said, shrugging. "It wasn't one of my men. We're fighting our war during the night, remember?"

Sanje shook his head. "Don't you find it odd that somebody happened to attack a Magi Victus in broad daylight?"

That got Raynolt's attention. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Did your man wear any type of identification? Something that gave him away?"

Sanje sneered contemptuously. "Was that a real question?"

Raynolt fought back his anger. He needed to think with a clear mind. He had let his temper get the best of him recently. That had to end now. "Since you said you spoke to your man, I take it he survived?"

"That's the interesting part," Sanje said softly. "It seems that his attackers never attended to kill him, based on the fact that they told him to carry a message to both of us."

Raynolt glanced quickly at Lenard. Lenard's calm face showed no sign of his thoughts; he merely looked politely at Sanje. 

That man probably knows what this is about. Raynolt was glad that Morgana turned out to be the spy. Lenard's intelligence was a great asset.

"What was the message?"

"Sophina Crews sends her regards," Sanje replied. "She wants to meet with both of us tomorrow at noon at a tavern called the Snakepit."

Raynolt's eyebrows raised almost all the way up into his long brown hair. "Does she now? It seems that we have an old foe still in the fold."

"That proves it," Lenard said, clearly thinking along the same lines as Raynolt. "Jon Laurent is still alive. That was him who attacked the Magi on the city walls."

Raynolt nodded; his mind was racing once again with this new information. "What's he planning, Sanje? Why did he attack the guards on top of the wall?"

Sanje's face tightened in anger. "I don't know, but I intend to find out. I'm going to make sure this time that I watch the last breath leave his body."

Raynolt turned to Lenard. "I smell an offer of an alliance. What do you think?"

Lenard nodded slowly. "This meeting is probably an opportunity for both of our sides to feel each other out. Reynar's display of power during the Summer Festival has changed everything. They clearly know now that Reynar is the one holding all the cards."

"That may be right," Sanje interjected, "but what's their goal? They wanted to stop Raynolt from assassinating Reynar. Well, they know they don't have to worry about that anymore. So why are they still planning something?"

Silence fell. Raynolt looked down at the carpet and sifted through the facts in his mind. What was the piece that connected all of them together? 

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Sanje picked a bad time to add even more information into Raynolt's already full brain. What with the plans for the war with the Magi Victus and Reynar's surprise announcement...

"Evelyn," Raynolt whispered. He looked up at Sanje and Lenard. "Evelyn Ventus is the key."

Lenard's eyes widened in sudden understanding. Sanje looked perplexed. "The Magi? What about her?"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 15



"She's no longer just a Magi," Raynolt said, smiling. "She's about to become our queen."

Sanje nearly chocked on his tongue. "Wha-What? When did this happen?"

"We just found out," Raynolt replied. "I was just trying to figure out our next move when you interrupted."

"But how is she the key?" Sanje asked.

"She's what connects all of us," Raynolt said, pointing a finger at Sanje. "You, me, Reynar, and Jon Laurent. She was hiding at Laurent's, remember? And you must have heard what happened between Reynar and Evelyn."

Raynolt could see the realization dawning in Sanje's eyes. "King Reynar attacked Ashford Caulston. Evelyn intervened and promised to go with Reynar if she let Ashford live. That's why Jon Laurent and his friends want to meet with us; they want to get Evelyn back. She's Reynar's prisoner."

Raynolt nearly laughed out loud. A sudden inspiration had just come to him. "And I know what my price will be," he said cryptically. Sophina Crews had just handed him a vital piece of the puzzle. His plans weren't dead yet.

"What?" Lenard asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.

Raynolt chuckled. "Let me think on it first. I want to see how it fits with the rest of my plans. Lenard, have Captain Aquanas brought to my office immediately. Sanje, have your men scout this tavern we're suppose to meet at tomorrow. I don't want any surprises. Return tonight so we can discuss our plans for tomorrow." Raynolt waved his hand and the runes on the door faded.

Lenard bowed immediately and left the office. Sanje vanished just as fast. Raynolt began pacing his office again. He was too full of nervous energy to sit down. He could hardly believe his luck. Just when he thought his luck had run out...

He was interrupted minutes later by Lenard's return. "Grand Master, Captain Aquanas is here to see you as requested."

"Thank you, Lenard. I shall speak with you tonight."

Lenard bowed and withdrew from the room, shutting the door behind him. Captain Aquanas looked nervously at Raynolt. "You wanted to see me, Grand Master?"

"I remember you telling me that Sophina Crews was once a guard here, yes?"

"Y-yes she was, Grand Master," he stammered. "Once again, I must apologize--"

"Save your petty excuses, Captain," Raynolt cut in coldly. "I wish to know everything you know about Sophina Crews. It's your responsibility to know all about your guards, correct?"

"E-Everything, Grand Master?" Captain Aquanas asked nervously.

Raynolt walked around his desk and sat down in his chair. "Everything."

"Well, she was born on a farm outside the city. She had seven brothers; she was the only girl, you see..."

As Raynolt listened, a smile slowly spread across his face. Sophina Crews wouldn't know what hit her.

***

Jon swayed and would have fallen if his hands were not bound together by the chain hanging from the ceiling. As it was, his chin rested on his chest and his arms and shoulders ached from the strain. His toes barely grazed the floor. The ache in his muscles was nothing compared to mountain of pain radiating from his back. She had taken her time in searing the flesh from his back with a red-hot knife.

Jocelyn had not been kind.

Jon didn't know how long he hung there, dazed and disorientated. He did his best to retreat inside his mind to hide from the pain. It was nearly enough. If he judged time by the screams of agony that were ripped from his throat, it had been years since Jocelyn had left.

He flinched when he heard the sound of the prison door creaking open. He had already told her everything he knew; what more could she want from him? He prayed with all his might that she had finally come to kill him. He kept his eyes closed as he heard the footsteps stop in front of him.

"God be merciful," a broken voice rasped.

Jon slowly opened his eyes. He was momentarily blinded by the light that had filled the room. Was it mage-light? He opened his mouth to ask who it was but all that came out was a dry croak. He felt his lips crack and bleed.

"For the God's sake, give him some water!" the voice commanded.

The voice sounded familiar. Jon blinked several times and squinted at the figure in front of him. The man had dark blonde hair and watery blue eyes. 

Before Jon's mind could process this, a hand grabbed him roughly by the chin and forced a cup of water into his mouth. The water gagged him; he coughed and gulped greedily as most of it ran out of his mouth and down his chest.

The cup withdrew suddenly and Jon gasped and coughed. It felt like he could never get enough water. He licked his lips and sucked the moisture off of them. He turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

"I'm so sorry for everything, father," the man said, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

Mathus. His son. Jon blinked slowly and gathered himself as best as he could. "Where..." His voice broke and he couldn't continue. He didn't want to know the answer to his question.

Mathus understood what Jon wanted to know. "She doesn't know I've come. She's too busy preparing a counterstrike against your group with the information she tore from you."

"You shouldn't have come," Jon said, closing his eyes. 

He struggled to bring his mind through the haze of pain and something...else. Something else was clouding his mind. Dimly, he recalled that he had been continuously drugged with the same plant that Marcus used. It was a secret Jocelyn had somehow discovered.

"I may be a puppet king but I'm still king!" Mathus said fiercely. "Her guards couldn't refuse me entry."

Jon glanced up. Two Magi guards were in the room with them. One of them held a cup in his hand. So these were his jailors. Jon made a mental note of that. "Leave. Leave before she finds out that you're here."

"Oh, father, it's too late for that," Mathus said sadly.

Before Jon could ask what he meant by that, the guards jerked suddenly and fell to the floor. Two of Mathus' guardsmen stood behind them, holding pitch-black daggers. Jon swung his gaze back to Mathus. "You fool! What have you done?"

"What I must," Mathus replied grimly. His eyes glowed silver and he made a slashing gesture with his hands. Jon's chains snapped and he fell hard to the ground. "Give me the robe!" Mathus said urgently to his guards.

Jon groaned as Mathus lifted him up. He pulled a long robe over Jon's head and pulled the hood up to hide his features. 

"What have you done?" Jon asked again.

Mathus slung Jon's arm over his shoulder and began to drag him. "I smuggled in a couple of your men, disguised as my personal guards. I'm sorry I can't heal you right now; you wouldn't survive it. Just hang in there until we can get you to safety. Then you can rest in preparation for the healing."

Jon tried to protest but pain suddenly shot up his back and made his teeth clench. Mathus hurriedly dragged him down the deserted hallway. Jon's men made sure the hallway was empty before they turned a corner.

"You've just thrown your life away," Jon said bitterly.

"I'm doing what I should have done years ago," Mathus replied stubbornly. "I should have never let them crown me. I should have followed you from the very beginning."

"You know I would never allow that, Mathus!" Jon rasped. The pain was becoming too much. His back felt like it was on fire.

Mathus grimaced. "Father...I told you my name is Tomar now. I can no longer bear to hear the name Mathus spoken."

Jon ignored the throbbing pain in his back and stared sadly at his son. "Mat...Tomar, that's not your burden to carry. Let me deal with it. Your mother-"

"Don't speak of her to me!" Mathus hissed angrily. He seemed to regret it almost immediately as he sighed. "It doesn't matter anymore, father. I've finally had enough. When I found out you were captured..." 

He shook his head angrily. "I couldn't do this anymore. My wife and son are safe. Jocelyn and the others need them to ensure the royal line. I don't think they planned on letting me live for very much longer, anyways. It's ok, though, because I know my destiny now, father. It's time I embraced it."

"What...are...you talking...about?" Jon whispered. Black dots swam across his vision as he struggled to keep conscious.

"Jocelyn told me everything you told her," Mathus whispered just as quietly. "She meant to taunt me with it. She has no idea how deadly that knowledge will become for her."

"What...do...you mean?" Jon could barely keep his focus on the conversation. Something Mathus was saying was very important. He just couldn't concentrate long enough to figure it out. His mind was red with pain. The drug was still cloaking whatever thoughts made it past the pain.

"I know--" Mathus cut off suddenly as they heard a commotion in the next hallway. Jon's men had ran into somebody.

"Mathus...leave me...run..."

"To the nine hells I will!" Mathus roared angrily.

They had stopped in the middle of the hallway. The noise had died away. It was eerily silent for several long moments. Finally, they heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. Jon felt Mathus' hand grip his arm nervously.

A tall woman turned the corner and stopped several feet away from them. Her raven-black hair rose high above her head and cascaded sharply down her back in many layers. Dark, beady eyes stared hauntily out of deep sockets. She was beautiful, in a dark sort of way.

"Where do you think you're taking him?" Jocelyn asked, one eyebrow raised scornfully.

"Jon, wake up. Are you ok?"

Jon blinked slowly. Shadows swayed across the roof of the tent. Crickets chirped outside. He blinked again and focused on Ashford's worried face. "Is it nighttime?"

Ashford nodded. Worry still showed on his face. "Yes. Are you ok? I couldn't wake you up. You were moaning and thrashing for several minutes."

Jon sat up and rubbed his eyes.

What time is it? How long have I been asleep? That dream...it's like I was back there again. He shook his head. "It was just a nightmare. I'm alright." His back throbbed dully as he said the words.

"It must have been one hell of a nightmare," Ashford said. He tried to make it a joke but Jon heard the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, really. My dreams have become unsettled of late, that's all."

"What do you think that means?"

Jon shook his head again. "I don't know. Maybe my mind is trying to tell me something. I just don't know. But enough of that; how long did I oversleep?" 

Jon stood up and walked out of the tent. The stars were sparkling in the night high above. The moon was full and was casting it's silvery glow over the landscape.

"Not long," Ashford said, stepping outside beside him. He began taking down the tent. "I would say half an hour at most."

"Well, I guess that's a good thing because we're almost in the desert now. We're going to have to ride through the night and through the next day, as well. We will start camping at night again."

Ashford nodded his agreement as he folded up the tent. "I definitely don't want to stumble over anything at night in that desert. Just about anything that crawls out there can kill a man in a heartbeat."

"A hard place for a hard people," Jon said quietly, speaking more to himself than to Ashford. "It suits her."

"Suits who?" Ashford asked, as he put the tent back into the wagon. He looked back at Jon curiously.

Jon didn't respond. He was going to have to keep his thoughts to himself if he wanted his secrets kept safe. There were some things he still wasn't ready to share with Ashford just yet.

They quickly packed up their camp and were back on the road in no time. Jon took the first turn with the reigns. He settled the spell over the horses with no thought to what he was doing. They were almost to the outskirts of the desert, which meant he needed to think about the next step of their plan.

"Are you sure about what we're going to face?" Jon asked.

Ashford grunted. "I wish I wasn't. But, unless things have changed in the past month, I'm pretty sure what we're going to have to do."

Jon sighed. "This is going to delay us. How long do you think it will take?"

Ashford grimaced. "Well, there are seven tribes. The desert stretches at least one hundred miles that we know. The goddess will be in the last camp at the edge of their territory. So, taking into account what we must do, and the distance we must travel, this could very well take two months to accomplish."

"Damn," Jon muttered. "That's not going to leave us much time to get back to the city in time for Evelyn's birth."

"I know. I wish there was another way. But not even you can kill every warrior in that desert."

Jon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Do you really take me for a mass murderer?" he asked dryly.

Ashford chuckled. "Fair enough. I was just pointing out that we either stick with our plan or try to cut our way through an entire nation."

"So two months then?" Jon shook his head and sighed. "It's not a great plan but I can't think of anything better. There are so many things that could go wrong, though. We're going to be taking a big gamble."

"It's the best way," Ashford reiterated. "I've spent years living with them. Trust me, this will work."

"I hope you're right." Something inside Jon screamed at him not to put his faith in Ashford. He did his best to ignore that voice. It was time to start having faith in other people.

They didn't speak much the rest of the night. Jon focused on maintaining the spell and driving the cart. His magic-enhanced eyes had no trouble navigating in the dark. The dirt road they had been traveling on for the past two days was gone. This area of Astuari was not inhabited. 

There wasn't much to look at anyways. The Forest of Winter had disappeared to be replaced by small shrubs and lots of dirt and rocks. The horses' hooves no longer thudded on good soil and lush grass. Instead, they kicked up a dirt trail as the land gradually became sparser and drier. They would be at the border to Raves by the mid-afternoon.

And then it would begin.

***

Sophina clutched her mug of ale nervously and did not drink. Marcus was sitting next to her at the table and was just as quiet. Peron, on the other hand, was loud and boisterous as he drank and yelled with his men.

"King Reynar will feel the kiss of my blade, I promise you this! We will regain our lost honor! We will return to our blessed desert as heroes!" Peron lifted his mug in the air as the men in the tavern roared their approval of his words.

Sophina caught Marcus' eye and shook her head. Marcus smiled slightly and took a sip of ale from his mug. Peron, meanwhile, continued to rile up his men. 

"And when we return home, we will be greeted with open arms from our comrades! And open legs from our women!" The men roared and laughed and banged their mugs on the table. "We will blessed by the Goddess herself! Yes, my fellow warriors, even that old hag will run barefoot across the cracked earth to fling herself into my bed!"

Sophina groaned disgustedly as that last part elicited the loudest cheer yet. Mugs were clashed together and ale slopped over the rims as Peron raised a toast and downed another mug. That fool man was going to be too drunk for their meeting, Sophina knew. 

"Why, I wouldn't be surprised-" Peron cut off suddenly and turned his head toward the door. Everyone in the room followed his gaze.

Sophina's grip on the mug tightened as she took in the visitors. Three men were standing in the doorway, sunlight streaming in behind them and obscuring them in shadows. The men walked slowly into the tavern and the door swung closed.

The man in front had his long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and was dressed in a elaborate green robe edged with gold thread. The man on his left wore nondescript brown clothing with the hood of his brown cloak pulled over his face. The man on the right wore simple robes of blue. His hair was dark red and his skin was pale.

Sophina knew the man with the ponytail and elaborate robes was Raynolt Teryus. The man with the hood shadowing his face would have to be Sanje. Even when dressing to avoid detection, the man still singled himself out. She didn't know who the red-haired man was.

"So," Raynolt said into the dead quiet of the tavern, "this is the famous Raves tavern is it?" A sneer twisted his lips as he took in his surroundings. "How quaint."

Sophina's grip on the mug nearly shattered the glass. She took a deep breath to quell her anger. Her fingers slowly uncurled from the handle of the mug. 

"Raynolt Teryus," she growled quietly. It wasn't a question.

Raynolt bowed his head as though she had just honored him. "You must be Sophina Crews. It's an honor to finally meet you."

"The honor is all yours," Sophina replied calmly.

Raynolt smiled at the insult. "We have come, as instructed," he said, waving a hand to indicate Sanje on his left.

"I only invited the two of you," Sophina replied, staring pointedly at the red-haired man.

Raynolt chuckled. "Allow me to introduce Lenard Demps. He is my...personal advisor. Is that a problem?"

Sophina shook her head. Let's just get this over with. "Please, sit down." She gestured at the opposite side of her table.

The room remained deadly quiet as the visitors walked across the tavern and pulled up chairs to the table. Peron stood up from where he was sitting with his men and walked over to stand behind Sophina's right shoulder. Sophina suppressed her irritation at the man's presumptuousness; she didn't need a bodyguard.

Raynolt's slight smile showed he understood Peron's positioning. "I must say, my dear Peron, that I would never imagine that you would play lapdog to an Astuarian."

Sophina raised her eyebrows in surprise. She turned to look up at the imposing warrior. "Do you know him?"

Peron nodded stiffly. "He was in King Reynar's retinue. He was involved in all the meetings I had with the King."

"Not to mention the fine seat I had to your greatest humiliation. Tell me, desert dog, how did it feel to lose to a lowly Astuarian in single combat?" Raynolt's voice dripped with contempt.

Peron growled low in his throat and lowered his hand down to the hilt of his sword. Sophina grabbed his hand and shook her head warningly. Peron looked at her, his eyes scorching her with their fire. But Sophina held her ground. Peron slowly let out his breath and let go of his sword. Sophina turned back to Raynolt as though nothing had happened.

"You have remarkable control over your pet," Raynolt observed, amused.

"It wouldn't be wise to push him," Sophina said quietly.

"Why? Because of that Magi blade he carries?" Raynolt eyed Peron's sword contemptuously. "A sword that can cut through almost anything is undoubtedly a fine weapon. And it never gets nicked, correct? Very nice...but useless against a 10th Tier Magi."

"Do you want to find out?" Peron rasped, his voice as deadly as the sound of sword slowly drawn from its sheath.

"Enough!" Sophina cut in. "I didn't invite everyone here just so I could judge a pissing contest!"

Raynolt stared at Sophina carefully for several seconds before sitting back in his chair and chuckling. "I can see you deserve that reputation of yours. Please, my dear, enlighten us as to why we are all here."

Sophina grabbed the sword leaning against the table leg and laid it on top of the table. She noted the brief flash of hunger and fear that shone in Raynolt's eyes. She also thought she saw Sanje twitch.

"Just so you know that there will be no violence here today. I can defeat any spell you throw at me and kill you before the last word leaves your lips. Understand?"

Raynolt spread his hands out innocently. "I didn't come here looking for a fight. I am, however, intensely curious as to why I'm here."

"You know why you're here," Sophina said. She wasn't fooled for a second that this man couldn't figure that out.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 15



Raynolt smirked again and gave her a tiny nod of his head. "You wish to form an alliance, do you not?"

Sophina nodded. "To remove King Reynar from the throne."

"And to place me on it in his stead."

"That's not part of the deal." Sophina stared at him, refusing to blink first.

Raynolt slowly scanned the crowd with his eyes. Sophina followed his gaze. Every face in the room clearly had murder on the mind. Raynolt looked back at Sophina. 

"Well, it seems like I'm getting a raw deal here. Not only don't I have any incentive to help you, but I see clearly that my life would be in jeopardy if I should ever turn my back."

"They won't kill you," Sophina assured him.

"And how can you be sure of that?"

"Because I didn't pay them to."

Raynolt's smile was as cold as the heart of winter. "Ah yes, mercenaries." His frozen smile twisted up into another sneer. Sophina was beginning to think that was a permanent look for the man. "I'm sure I can trust their code of honor."

"You have my personal guarantee."

Raynolt sighed dramatically. "My dear, your bunch of rag-tag mercenaries aside, I still fail to see the incentive for me. Why help you if you don't wish me to be king?"

"I never said I didn't have anything to offer. We don't want you to be king, Raynolt. We have somebody else in mind for that. But I can see that you're a man who desires power above all else. Why would you want to be king? Do you really see yourself running this country with all the mundane tasks that come with it?"

Sophina could see the curiosity in his face. Raynolt studied her for several moments, trying to read her face. Sophina sat perfectly still. Raynolt tapped the table with his finger as he considered. 

"I'm listening."

"I know your kind, Raynolt. You don't really wish to be king. You just wish to obtain more power than anybody else. You wish to be the most respected man among your peers. That's what drives you. And I can offer you something that would make you more powerful than King Reynar."

Sophina knew she had him; she could see it in his face. His eyes blazed with an intense hunger. "What can you offer me?"

Sophina hesitated. Jon had told her to make this offer. She had to trust his instincts. "It's not mine to offer. You know Jon Laurent is alive, correct?"

Sanje, who to this point had hardly moved a muscle during the conversation, jerked upright in his seat. "What did you say?"

Raynolt held out his hand to quiet him. Sophina could almost feel the rage coming from Sanje. Raynolt looked highly intrigued. 

"We have come to that conclusion, yes. Are you confirming that he is indeed alive?"

Sophina nodded. "I'm negotiating on his behalf."

Raynolt leaned forward intently. His eyes bored into hers. "Tell me, how did he survive the attack? And the fall from the roof? Who healed his wounds?"

Sophina ignored his questions and was careful not to glance sideways at Marcus. "He has an offer for you. Help us removed Reynar from the throne and free Evelyn Ventus from his custody and he will..." She trailed off deliberately, just to set the bait.

Raynolt took it.

"He will what? Speak, woman!" His eyes shone with a fierce light.

Jon was right; this man desires power simply for the sake of having it. How...sad. "If you give your word that you will not reach for the crown, Jon Laurent will teach you all he knows about magic. This includes the secret to the making of a Shadow Dagger. He will also give you his own Shadow Dagger as a token of respect for your cooperation."

Raynolt's eyebrows shot up in shock. Marcus' hands twitched on the table. Sophina felt Peron shift behind her. The Magi Raynolt introduced as Lenard Demps whistled under his breath. 

Sanje had the most startling reaction of all.

"Impossible!" he roared. He banged his fists on the table and stood up angrily. He leaned over the table and put his shadowed face close to Sophina's. She could see the smoothness of his cheeks and chin.

My God, he's so young! "That is what Jon offered. Knowledge. A powerful weapon, is it not, Raynolt?" Sophina asked, looking past Sanje's snarling face toward Raynolt.

"Jon Laurent, as lowly and depraved as he is, would never betray the Magi Victus!" Sanje turned angrily toward Raynolt. "Raynolt, you can't seriously be considering this offer. Touching the Shadow Dagger of a Magi Victus will kill you instantly, Magi or not. It's a trick! And the knowledge of how to make a Shadow Dagger would be useless to you!"

Raynolt didn't turn to face him. Instead, he continued to study Sophina in that calculating way of his. Whatever faults the man had, he clearly wasn't an idiot. She could see the intelligence in his eyes.

"An intriguing offer, to say the least. The fact that Jon Laurent would hand over one of the most powerful objects in this world is very telling. Tell me, why are you so desperate? There's something I'm missing, isn't there?"

Sanje dropped back in his chair with an angry snort. Sophina glanced at Marcus, who to this point had been quiet and still. Marcus nodded. Sophina turned back toward Raynolt, who looked at Marcus in confusion. 

"King Reynar is in a position to greatly alter the future of Astuari in a direction that we fervently oppose. We need to have him removed, for all of our sakes."

Sophina waited patiently while Raynolt sat still and considered his next words. "I have to admit, I'm highly intrigued by what you just said about Reynar. You're hiding something from me, I can tell. You want to offer me knowledge? Fine, I accept. First thing, what is it that you know about Reynar?"

"That's not the offer on the table," Sophina said carefully. "Jon Laurent will greatly enhance your knowledge of magic, making you the most powerful Magi alive. That is the offer."

Raynolt looked up at the ceiling and smiled. "You were right about me, you know." He looked back at Sophina, the smile still tugging his lips. "I crave power, it's true. I want to be the most powerful man in history. And to further such pursuits, I have and will always seek knowledge. Knowledge, as you say, is indeed a powerful weapon."

Sophina felt a sudden chill. She had a bad feeling about where this was going. Raynolt's smile wasn't helping to calm her nerves, either. "What's your point?"

"I know you're hiding something from me. You want me to help you by blindly following orders, is that right? No, I don't think so. I will have the knowledge you possess concerning King Reynar. And, to seal our deal, you will hand over that wonderful sword of yours once our business is concluded."

Dead silence followed his words. Raynolt leaned back in his chair and continued to smile. Sophina's grip on her sword tightened. He couldn't pry the sword out of her cold, dead fingers.

"And what makes you think I will give you what you ask?"

Raynolt's smile stretched his mouth wider, like a cat looking at the mouse it had underneath it's paws. "Because otherwise, I have a terrible feeling something awful will happen to your family out on that lonely farm of theirs."

Sophina kicked back her chair and unsheathed her sword before she even knew what she was doing. There was a loud roar followed by the banging of chairs and tables. Marcus and Peron were both yelling, either at her or Raynolt. Sophina couldn't hear them. She could only hear the pounding of the blood in her ears.

Sanje had his Shadow Dagger out and was crouched in a fighting position. Lenard Demps' eyes glowed silver and he had his hand held out. Raynolt, however, continued to smile as he stared down at Sophina's blade, which was an inch from his neck.

"What did you say about my family?" Sophina roared, her hand shaking badly as she struggled to keep the sword from striking off Raynolt's head.

"My dear, I think you're overreacting. I merely made a comment about the health of your family. Surely you're concerned about your seven fine young brothers and their families who keep your family farm afloat, aren't you? I've heard rumors of bandits striking farms like yours recently. I've already sent out one of my men to keep a watch out for your family. They are under his careful eye, don't you worry."

Sophina breathed heavily through her nose. She longed to plunge her sword into his black heart. But at the same time, fear made her stay her hand. Raynolt's threat was clear; don't agree to this deal and his "man" will see to it that "bandits" strike her farm. He had her and the smug bastard knew it.

"Don't listen to this scum," Peron hissed. His own sword was pointed at Raynolt as well. "He only has power over you if you allow him to."

"Peron is right," Marcus agreed. "This man of Raynolt's can't take action if he doesn't hear from him. I can take care of this problem here and now."

Marcus cold, quiet voice sent a chill through Sophina's raging temper. She shook her head and slammed her sword back in it's sheath. 

"Put up your weapons," Sophina commanded sharply.

"Sophina, don't listen--" Peron began but Sophina cut him off with a glare.

"Just do as I say!"

Peron looked very unhappy but he reluctantly sheathed his sword. Sophina caught the glimpse of satisfaction that crossed Raynolt's face. She let her murderous glare bore into Raynolt's smiling face. 

"I agree." She had to force the words through gritted teeth. They tasted very bitter on her tongue.

Marcus turned toward her. "Are you sure? Jon wouldn't want this. Just let me take care of this problem."

"Who is this man and why is he so foolish as to threaten me?" Raynolt demanded, the smile finally gone from his face.

Marcus said nothing but just stared into Raynolt's face. Raynolt must have sense some measure of power from Marcus because he blinked slowly and looked away. "He is my personal advisor," Sophina said.

Raynolt snorted. "You keep interesting friends, Sophina Crews. As to his threat, do you think me so foolish to come here unprepared? Should my man not hear from me tonight, he will withdraw his protection from your family's farm. No doubt they would soon be hit by bandits."

"It's ok," Sophina said, touching Marcus' arm lightly. "Jon trusted me to make difficult decisions. I can't do anything to jeopardize my family. He would understand that."

Marcus nodded slowly. Sophina squeezed his arm and turned back to Raynolt. She tried her best to keep her hand away from her sword. "I accept your terms."

"Good," Raynolt said, clapping his hands. 

He seated himself back in his seat. Sophina and the rest of the men followed suit. Sanje and Lenard slowly sat back down next to Raynolt. Both men looked ready to kill at a moment's notice. 

"Now, tell me, what is your objection to Reynar as king?"

***

Ashford shaded his eyes with his hand and studied the horizon. A shimmering heat wave in the air distorted most of what he saw. The only noticeable feature were the towering mountains hundreds of miles away. Other than that, the landscape in front of his eyes was flat and barren.

They had finally arrived in Raves.

Ashford looked up at the sun and closed his eyes. He could already feel the heat drying up all the moisture on his cheeks and lips. They were most definitely in Raves now.

He turned to look at Jon, who was quietly sleeping in a sitting position on the bench next to him. He had driven the cart all through the night and most of the morning. It would be a pity to wake him. But he had asked.

"Jon," Ashford said quietly.

That's all it took. Jon's eyes instantly snapped open. He blinked a few times and studied his surroundings. "We're here."

Ashford nodded and pointed to the west. "See that tall structure way in the distance?" It was a rhetorical question; he knew Jon's keen eyes had probably already spotted it.

Jon nodded. "I see it."

"That's Fort Barren, the last outpost of the Astuarian nation. It's our first line of defense against raids from Raves and the last sign of civilization you see before entering the desert. The back way we took has taken us to the eastern edge of the border."

"What tribe rules this land?" Jon asked as he continued to study the area.

Ashford hesitated and then hoped Jon didn't notice. "The Tribe of the Desert Scorpion. They will be your first test."

"What do you know of their chieftain?"

Too much. He tried to keep his voice conversational. "He's a powerful man. His tribe is second in power only to the Tribe of the Desert Snake."

"Peron's tribe, the man you sent Sophina to recruit."

"Yes," Ashford replied. "Peron and Sazon, the chieftain of the Desert Scorpion, are bitter enemies and rivals. If the War of the Desert hadn't started, those two men would have surely killed each other in battle."

"It's a good place to start," Jon said absently. His mind seemed to be on other things the last few days. Ashford worried about him.

"Do you what to know about Sazon's fighting techniques? His strengths and weaknesses?"

"Not necessary," Jon said simply.

Ashford should have felt relief at the confidence Jon displayed but, instead, he was oddly worried. 

"I have a bad feeling, Jon. We have a good plan but there's something...I don't know, I can't quite put my finger on it."

"They know we're coming," Jon said quietly, his gaze locked on the horizon.

Ashford shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it. It's just--"

"No," Jon interrupted. He pointed at the horizon. "They know we're coming."

Ashford turned to look at what Jon was pointing at. The heat distortion in the air was making it difficult for him to see anything. "Jon, I don't know--" He stopped as something in the distance caught his eye.

A dark line was wavering across the distance. "What is that..." Ashford trailed off and opened his eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The heat continued to distort the distance but it was becoming clearer.

An army was marching towards them.

"This is not what I expected!" Ashford shouted. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

Jon, however, hardly seemed ruffled. In fact, he even seemed pleased. "She's planned for this," he whispered, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Ashford turned toward him. "The goddess?"

Jon snorted. "She's no goddess. Though she always did fancy herself a god."

"Jon, what's going on? What do you know?"

Jon turned toward him, smiling. "That we have a fight coming our way."

Ashford could only groan.

***

Raynolt leaned back in his chair slowly. He looked to his left at Sanje. Sanje looked troubled. Raynolt glanced to his right at Lenard. The tall Magi looked highly skeptical. Raynolt cleared his voice.

"Are you trying to tell me that Evelyn Ventus is carrying some type of magical...baby?" Raynolt couldn't keep the scorn out of his voice. Who did they think he was?

Sophina snorted. "That's not what I said. I said the baby she is carrying was conceived through magical means. This child is very, very special and is the reason why we need to get her away from King Reynar."

Raynolt shook his head. Nothing she said made any sense. "Jon Laurent was the one who fed you this story?"

Sophina's face tightened momentarily in anger. "He didn't feed us anything. This is the truth. Or are you going to sit here and tell me you know every secret of a soul-bond?"

Raynolt turned back to Lenard. "Have you heard anything like this before?"

Lenard shook his head. "No, Grand Master. But to be honest, I know almost nothing about soul-mates."

Raynolt turned back to Sophina and tried his best to read her face. He didn't see any signs that she was lying. Then again, she was hard to read. He needed more information.

"Let's say for a moment that I believe you. Why would King Reynar care about this child?"

Sophina leaned her elbows on the table as she spoke. "You're a Magi, Raynolt. You tell me what you would want with a child who was born through magic. Can't you imagine the power a child like this could wield?"

Raynolt had to admit it that it made sense. If a child could truly be born under those circumstances, it's potential would be limitless. Magic made manifest...

Yes, I could see why Reynar would want a child like this. His hold on the throne would be secure and the child could rule the way he wanted it to.

Raynolt still wasn't convinced, though. Something else was bothering him. He still didn't know the whole story. "If all this is true, why would you care what Reynar wanted with the child?"

Sophina hesitated and looked to her companion on her left before answering. Raynolt once again studied the man sitting next to her. Why did he look so familiar?

"King Reynar, we believe, is acting on false information. This information was given to him in order to ensure the destruction of Astuari and perhaps the world."

Raynolt had a hard time buying the story about the child. Now they wanted him to believe this? 

"You're insane," Raynolt said, unable to contain his laughter. "Jon Laurent really does have you eating out of the palm of his hand!"

Suddenly, Raynolt didn't feel bad that Jon Laurent continued to mystify him. He was playing his own companions! 

Jon Laurent is one devious man. But what's his game? Why this story?

Sophina did not look amused. Her anger only made Raynolt laugh harder. Her next words cut his laughter off short. 

"Would you still be laughing if I told you that King Reynar was being manipulated by Raves? That it was the desert people who sought the destruction of our country?"

Now that's interesting. Raynolt stopped laughing. "That would make a better story, I think. But who in the desert would possibly have enough influence and power to manipulate Reynar?"

"You ever hear of a desert goddess?"

Raynolt blinked. "I've heard rumors," he said slowly. "Where did you get that information? The desert people are a notoriously close-lipped people." Raynolt's eyes strayed to Peron. "Ah, but of course. Feeling chatty, Peron?"

Peron's smile revealed most of his teeth. "Extremely. But mostly about the women I bedded. You should look elsewhere for information about the goddess."

Raynolt glanced back at Sophina and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. "If not Peron, then who?"

"Ashford," Sophina said simply, though her eyes watched Raynolt carefully.

I should have known that, Raynolt thought irritably. "Ah yes, of course one of Reynar's dear childhood friends would know about that. So you, and when I say you I mean Jon Laurent, think that the goddess is manipulating Reynar into destroying his own country? How?"

"This goddess claims to be an Oracle," Sophina replied. "She claims that the future hinges on the life of Evelyn's child."

"Is that so?" Raynolt replied slowly. An Oracle? What nonsense. He shook his head. "Reynar is not a fool. Why would he believe that?"

Sophina shot him an scornful look. "Do you think that's all Reynar learned from her? Have you never wondered how Reynar came to be so powerful?"

Raynolt stared sightlessly forward. He sat still, shocked, while his brain tried to process this information. 

It's true, he had to learn it from somewhere. Is this goddess really who she claims to be?

"It seems our desert friends are cleverer than we thought," Raynolt finally replied, more to himself than to anybody in the room. He glanced up and saw the smug smile on Peron's face.

"Indeed," Lenard chimed in. Raynolt glanced over at him. Lenard's brow was furrowed in thought. "It does make a certain kind of sense. The pieces are fitting together, if you will. This must be the source of Reynar's power."

"It is starting to make sense," Raynolt replied thoughtfully.

Sanje shifted in his chair next to him. "This explains why he suddenly decided to marry her."

Raynolt nodded. "Exactly. This child is another source of power for him. Bind the child to his blood and lineage and he will bind it's power to him."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 15



Raynolt glanced up and saw the confusion on Sophina's face. "What are talking about?"

Raynolt cocked his head. "Surely, you've heard the news by now? It's all over the city."

Sophina shook her head slowly, her face betraying the first hint of fear. The man next to her grunted. "Spit it out already."

Raynolt chuckled. "It seems I finally know something you don't. Well, far be it for me to keep you in the dark. Our good King Reynar is to wed your beloved Evelyn Ventus at noon tomorrow."

Sophina's eyes opened wide in shock. "You lie!"

Raynolt stared at her curiously. Why the overreaction? There's something there... "I assure you, I'm not lying. Go ask the first person you see in the street."

Sophina stood up suddenly, her chair crashing against the floor. "I...this meeting is over. Do we have a deal or not?"

Raynolt stood and smiled. "Not quite yet. What assurances will I have that Jon Laurent will consent to teach me? What's to stop him from simply killing me?"

Sophina clicked her tongue with impatience. "He won't teach you personally. He will write down everything he knows in a book. You can learn from that as well as you could straight from him. Now do we have a deal?"

Raynolt spread out his hands and nodded. "We do."

Sophina nodded. She was clearly in a hurry. "We will meet here tomorrow. After...after the wedding."

And with that, Sophina and her companions swept from the tavern.

***

Evelyn stood by the railing and let the sun warm her face. Her room overlooked the palace gardens and she could smell the intoxicating mixture of flowers and earth. For the moment, she was at peace.

"My lady?"

Evelyn sighed and turned around. The moment was gone but she tucked it away in her memory. 

"Yes?"

Evelyn, or Eve as Evelyn called her, walked hesitantly onto the balcony. The woman had become her own personal servant. "The seamstress needs to take your measurements."

Evelyn nodded. She followed Eve into her spacious sitting room where an old, wrinkly woman was waiting for her. The woman curtsied and for a moment Evelyn thought she was about to tip over.

"Please, you don't have to do that," Evelyn said, embarrassed.

"Sorry, my lady, but that's how I was raised," the old woman replied, in a wavery voice. "My name is Oberta and I have had the pleasure of making the wedding gowns for the past three queens."

Evelyn bowed her head. "It would be an honor if you would make my gown."

Oberta wasted no time in taking her measurements. For a woman at such an advanced age, she moved surprisingly fast. Eve wrote down the measurements Oberta called out as her deft hands stretched out the measuring tape.

Evelyn grimaced as Oberta paused as she took the measurement around her stomach. The old woman looked up at her and blinked slowly. Evelyn stared calmly back at her, though her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

Finally, the old woman smiled uncertainly. "I see someone has had too many lemon cakes, if you don't mind me saying."

Evelyn let out a nervous laugh. "You caught me."

Oberta patted her stomach gently. "Don't you worry, I've seen worse. I must say, you are possibly the most beautiful of the queens I have had the pleasure of sewing for."

Evelyn took her hand and squeezed it. "Thank you," she said.

The old woman nodded. Her eyes strayed back toward Evelyn's stomach but she looked up and smiled. "I think it will be a beautiful wedding. Come along, Evelyn, the dress won't make itself."

Eve nodded at Evelyn and departed. Once they were gone, Evelyn collapsed on a nearby seat. As much as she dreaded the upcoming wedding, she would be glad once everyone knew she was pregnant.

***

"My liege, the seamstress Oberta wishes to speak with you."

Reynar glanced up at his servant Sereph and frowned. He set down his quill. "Show her in."

Sereph led the old seamstress into the room and guided her to the chair in front of Reynar's desk. Oberta nodded her thanks and turned to face Reynar nervously.

Reynar smiled reassuringly at her. "My dear, what can I help you with? How goes the fitting?"

"Well enough, my liege," she replied, her voice wavering so much that Reynar had to strain to hear her. "My apprentices are working hard on her dress as we speak."

"Good. I am most anxious to see the fruits of your labor. Many people still talk about how beautiful my mother looked on her wedding day."

Oberta smiled. Her nerves seemed to leave her as she sat forward eagerly in her chair. "You are most kind, my liege. I remember every stitch on that dress. Your mother was a delight to sew for. Her foreign ideas of dress were most refreshing."

Reynar smiled as warm memories of his mother swam through his vision. "Was there something in particular you wished to discuss, my dear?"

Oberta hesitated and fiddled with her hands for several moments. "My liege...I don't know how to say this..."

"Please, speak plainly. I will not react angrily to anything you say."

She nodded and took a deep breath. Her hands quivered on his desk. "I believe your bride is pregnant, my liege. I felt a slight bump when I measured her. I know the feel of a pregnancy. I have felt it many times."

Reynar's hands twitched. He glanced up at Sereph. His servant nodded his head. Reynar shook his. No...

"My dear, are you sure?" His voice was calm. It was important to remain calm.

"I'm positive," she replied. She seemed to draw strength from Reynar's placid reaction.

"Have you told anyone of this?"

"Of course not, my liege. I came straight away after giving instructions to my apprentices. I figured you would need to know this before you went through with the wedding."

Reynar glanced at the plain wooden box on his desk. It was a symbol of all he would have to sacrifice to save the world. The child needed a secure throne. That was Reynar's only concern. It had to be.

Again, Sereph nodded at him. Reynar glanced back at the box and sighed. He felt another piece of his soul get chipped away. He nodded back at Sereph.

"My dear Oberta, thank you for coming to me with this information. As a show of gratitude, would you please join me in having a glass of wine?"

"Of course, my liege!" She beamed back at him. Some energy seemed to give her old body new life.

Sereph returned with two glasses of wine. Reynar raised his glass in a toast. "To your great accomplishments. May they be remembered for all time."

She beamed at him and took a sip of wine. Reynar set his glass down on the table. "I'm sorry," he told her sadly.

She cocked her head at him. "Why, my liege? I don't know whaaa...whaa..."

Her eyes opened and closed rapidly. Her mouth twisted and her chest moved up and down rapidly. The wine glass fell from her grasp and splattered wine on the floor. She slumped sideways and fell out of the chair.

Sereph caught her and gently lowered her to the floor. He held his hand on her chest for a long minute before closing her eyes. 

"It's done," he said quietly.

Reynar stood up and stared down at the body. Dark red wine dripped off the chair like blood. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. "No...it's far from done."

***

Note: When I originally wrote this chapter, I had little build up to the wedding. Rather, I focused on the events of the wedding and all involved. However, I noticed a big hole in my story that needed to be filled. So all the great events of the wedding have been pushed back to the upcoming chapter.

Also, please check my bio page for the reason why this chapter was so delayed.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 16



Ashford waited nervously as the army marched closer. This was definitely not what he had planned with Jon earlier. He had hoped to sneak into Raves undetected to make contact with Chieftain Sazon in private.

Now a whole tribe of warriors marched towards them.

"How many?" Jon asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He could have been asking about the weather.

Ashford had to swallow before speaking. "The Tribe of the Desert Scorpion boasts the highest number of warriors of all seven tribes." He looked at Jon, hoping his face didn't look as queasy as he felt. "Twenty thousand warriors."

"Good," Jon muttered. "It should give us the upper hand in negotiations with the other tribes." 

Ashford would have laughed but he feared if he opened his mouth he might lose his lunch instead. "N-negotiations? Are you serious?"

Jon looked at him calmly. "I want to avoid fighting, if I can. We will make better time that way."

Ashford shook his head and waved his hand at the oncoming army. "Look at them! There will be no negotiations. If the goddess really does know that we're coming, then we will have to fight our way through."

Jon grimaced. "I'm afraid you're right. Still, gathering the largest host around us will serve our cause better."

"If they don't kill us on sight," Ashford said grimly. "We're lucky they disdain archers. Otherwise, we would be mistaken for pincushions once we were in range."

Jon smiled. "Have faith, my friend. These warriors will give us a chance to speak before they decide to disembowel us and leave us for the vultures."

Ashford could have done without that mental image. "How do you know that?"

"The same reason they hate archers; they follow my code of honor," Jon replied. He shaded his eyes and stared at the army quickly making its way toward them. "Besides, they probably have orders not to kill us on sight."

"They follow your code of honor?" Ashford asked.

Jon nodded, though he never took his eyes off of the army. "I think their ancestors were the men I led into battle. I felt that a man should be able to defend himself if you wanted to kill him. That's why my army never used archers. My men followed my example. My teachings caught on and became quite popular."

Ashford had to disagree with him there. "I much prefer killing men who have no chance of killing me. Which leads me to ask, what about magic? Surely you used magic in your battles?"

"Never offensive magic," Jon replied. "I fought with a sword and nothing else."

"Why?"

Jon shook his head. "You're not a warrior, Ashford. You wouldn't understand. Now prepare yourself. The army approaches."

The Tribe of the Desert Scorpion arrived in a cloud of dust. Chieftain Sazon rode on his horse in front of his marching army. Fifty of his best men rode beside him. Everyone else approached on foot. Horses couldn't survive the harsh conditions of the desert.

Sazon reined in several yards away from Ashford and Jon. The rest of his cavalry circled them, silent and grim as death. The foot soldiers ringed them in.

There would be no escape.

Ashford wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he watched Sazon dismount from his horse. The Chieftain was a very tall man. His skin was coal black. His hair was just as dark and extremely long. It was tied off at his neck and was braided all the way down his back. He wore a white vest with no sleeves and brown trousers tucked into knee high brown boots. His massive arms were corded with muscle. A sword and dagger were sheathed on his hips.

The men on horseback wore similar clothing, except their vests were different colors to denote their rank in the tribe. The foot soldiers wore simple brown clothing.

Sazon stopped several feet away. His dark eyes sized up Jon and dismissed him just as fast. He turned to Ashford. 

"Ashford Caulston." His voice was deep and powerful.

Ashford stifled his fear as best as he could and bowed his head in respect. "Chieftain Sazon, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same," he said somberly. But his eyes held no pity for him. The warriors of Raves never learned the concept.

"How did you know I was out here?"

Sazon glanced at Jon. "I was told to march my army out here by..."

"The goddess," Jon said, when Sazon fell silent.

Sazon's eyes whipped back toward Ashford. "You spoke of the goddess to this outsider?" He hands gripped the hilt of his sword and dagger. Ashford could hear the squeak of leather.

"Yes," he replied. 

What else can I say? Damn, this is not looking good!

"We came to trust you, against our better judgment," Sazon said, his voice flat. "Our countries were making great progress."

"Were?" Ashford asked.

Sazon grimaced and spat to the side. "Apparently, this man next to you has angered the goddess. Why else would she send out my entire tribe to deal with him?"

"The goddess has ordered you to kill us?" Jon asked. Again, Ashford was amazed by how calm he sounded.

"She told me to hear your words and then decide if I should take your life. Speak, Astuarian, and let us be done with this madness."

Jon stepped closer to Sazon. Several of the men on horseback unsheathed their swords. Sazon raised his hand and the men reluctantly sheathed their weapons. Jon took no notice of this.

The movement of the riders had attracted Ashford's attention to one rider in particular. It was a woman. 

Her fine, silky hair was pure white, tied off and braided down her back like Sazon's. She wore a loose blouse of white silk and tight leather trousers, also white. The blouse was unbuttoned enough to show a generous amount of bosom. Her dark eyes and skin seemed to sparkle in the harsh sunlight.

Her eyes, in particular, were staring directly at him with an intense heat. Ashford gulped and hastily turned his head away.

"I have an offer to make," Jon told the towering Sazon. "I wish to challenge you for leadership of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion."

Thousands of voices filled the air with laughter. Ashford could hear the foot soldiers repeating what Jon said to the men behind them. Laughter flowed along the deep ranks of the foot soldiers.

Sazon, however, had not laughed. He stared intently down at Jon. "By what right do you challenge me? You are not of our blood, Astuarian."

Jon bowed his head in acknowledgment. "The proud people of Raves honor the best warriors, regardless of their country of origin. It is by this right that I challenge you."

Again, laughter spread throughout the tribe. This time, Sazon's booming voice led them. "You, little Astuarian? I don't see a honorable warrior with great deeds to his name in front of me. I see a dead man."

Jon nodded and turned around. Several nearby warriors yelled at him and readied their weapons. But Jon merely walked back to their cart and pulled up the cover. He rummaged around for a few moments and withdrew an object.

He walked back and stood in front of Sazon. He held out the sword in his hand. "I have this deed to my name." He slowly unsheathed the sword and held the blade up to the fading sunlight.

The sun flashed off the runes that covered the blade.

"A magi blade," Jon said, his voice filling the sudden silence.

This time, Ashford heard not laughter by whispers sweep through the warriors around him. He saw awe in several faces.

Sazon grimaced and spat to the side. "Stolen. Or bought. I'm not so easily impressed, Astuarian."

Once again, Jon nodded his head. He walked back to the cart and pulled out another object. Ashford could hear several excited murmurs around him. 

He glanced up and spotted the white-haired woman watching him again.

That fool woman! Why is she staring at me so intensely? Somebody's going to notice!

Ashford had to admit a moment later that nobody had seen the woman staring at him. Because Jon held out another sword, this time a double-edged bastard sword, and everyone saw at once the runes that covered it.

"No man is good enough to steal two Magi-blades and no man is wealthy enough to afford two," Jon said. "By these blades, I claim my right to challenge you to combat."

"Are you so eager to die?" Sazon asked, though his eyes never left the blades in Jon's hands.

"These blades will be yours, should I lose. What honor would a warrior of Raves earn by wielding two Magi-blades?"

"Much," Sazon admitted. The hunger in his voice was plain to any who heard him speak.

"As I understand it, Chieftain Peron wields the only Magi-blade that Raves possesses, correct?"

Sazon growled. "Don't speak to me of that honorless dog! He brought great shame onto our people with his defeat. And he was gutless enough to take the blade with him into exile."

Jon sheathed both swords and bowed low. "All the more reason for you to kill me and earn two Magi-blades. The honor of your people will be restored."

Sazon studied him for several moments. Finally, he spoke. "I accept your challenge, Astuarian. But the sun is setting. I will give you one last chance to watch it rise again. We will duel at first light."

"May our fight bring us both great honor," Jon replied solemnly. He gestured with the swords. "I will not use these in our fight, of course. It wouldn't be fair."

Sazon gave him a grudging nod of respect. "You are honorable, for an Astuarian. Kotori!" he barked suddenly.

A horseman in a gold-colored vest spurred his horse forward. "Yes, Chieftain?"

"Spread the word to the men; this Astuarian has challenged me for leadership of the tribe. If I am slain, the tribe is to follow this man and obey all of his commands."

Kotori did not look happy. "Chieftain, this man is--"

Sazon raised his hand and Kotori quieted instantly. "Are you questioning my authority? This man has established the right to challenge me. I am honor-bound to fulfill his request. This law has been the way of our people for centuries. Do you question it?" 

The man bowed his head in shame. "No, Chieftain. I will have the word spread."

Sazon turned back to Jon. "Astuarian, what is your name?"

Jon hesitated for a brief second. "I am Jon d'Thelas san Ronar."

Ashford blinked. 

Very clever, Jon. Even this remote place has probably heard of Jon Laurent. The name Jon d'Thelas san Ronar has faded from memory and yet you didn't lie. I think you understand these people better than I do.

Sazon pounded his chest with one hand and stood up straighter. "I am Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion. I have fought and killed many men to protect my position. I have never known defeat. Tomorrow, Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, you will understand why."

Sazon turned and walked away. The army began to break apart to set up camp for the night. Ashford looked over at Jon. Jon let out a breath and turned to Ashford. He smiled.

"I forgot what it was to feel like this," he said excitedly.

Ashford opened his mouth to say something but the words never made it to his mouth. The woman who had been staring at him was riding straight for him. He looked around nervously but couldn't see Sazon in the chaos of the camp.

Jon looked at the woman curiously as she rode by. Ashford swallowed nervously several times before the woman jumped from her horse and landed smoothly in front of Ashford.

"Ashford Caulston," she said, her tone neutral and controlled.

Ashford wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Istas, it's...it's lovely to see you again." He once again wiped away the sweat that dripped into his eyes. "By the God, I've forgotten how hot it gets here! I'm afraid in a few moments I will be nothing but a puddle." He snapped his mouth closed when he realized he was rambling.

Istas said nothing but continued to stare at him cooly. Thankfully, Jon spared him from having to babble about the weather again. 

"Ashford, will you introduce me to your friend here?"

"Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, this is Istas, daughter of Chilali and wife to Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Snake."

Jon's eyes darted quickly to Ashford when he mentioned that she was the wife of Sazon. It was only a brief flicker and then Jon bowed low. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

Istas never once glanced at Jon. Her eyes remained locked on Ashford. "You left without warning," she said quietly.

Ashford closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, she was still standing there. 

Oh well, it was worth a shot. "My apologies, Istas. But I was called away for an urgent matter. It couldn't be avoided."

She said nothing for several long moments. Finally, she walked up to him until her nose was almost in his face. She was as tall as him.

"Apology accepted," she said. Her fist followed her words and drove deep into Ashford's sternum.

Ashford let out a whoosh of air and collapsed to the cracked and dry ground. 

I should have seen that coming, he thought as he struggled to draw in a breath. Finally, reluctantly, air rushed down into his lungs.

He lay on the ground for several minutes to catch his breath. A shadow hovered over him. He cracked open one eye.

"What a fierce woman," Jon said, smiling broadly. Istas was gone.

"You have no idea," Ashford mumbled. He didn't have a good feeling about this night.

***

Sophina nursed her wine and stared sullenly into the fireplace. The fire popped and hissed in an entirely too cheerful way for Sophina's tastes. She grimaced and drained her glass.

"This doesn't affect our plans," Marcus said from the chair next to hers. It was the first words he had spoken since they came back to Jon's hideout.

"Is that so?" Sophina snapped. She wasn't in the mood to be consoled like a little child.

"Yes," Marcus replied, unfazed. "Actually, this is perfect. It reminds me that there is a grand scheme in play here. The God still watches over us."

"I don't want to listen to this," Sophina said. She reached over to grab the wine bottle from the table in between their chairs.

Marcus' hand engulfed hers and stopped her from pouring the wine. "You need to listen to this," he said sternly. "It will help, trust me."

Sophina sighed, suddenly too weary to argue. She nodded her head. Marcus let go of her hand and leaned back in his chair.

"The child will one day need to come into power in order to lead this country. But those plans were for down the road. Right now, we simply needed to get Evelyn away from Reynar. But this marriage might actually save countless lives."

Sophina sat up in her chair. "You actually agree to this marriage?" 

The wine she had drank was fueling her fury; a fury that had been steadily building up since she had learned that Evelyn was marrying Reynar and that Raynolt was holding her family hostage.

Marcus didn't seem perturbed by her sudden flash of temper. "Like I said, it will save lives," he said calmly. "We won't have to wage any battles for the child to take over the throne. Reynar is claiming this child for reasons we don't know yet. The child will have the legitimate claim to the throne."

"I don't care!" Sophina roared. "That bastard is forcing her to marry him!"

"Is he?" Marcus said quietly. "Don't forget, Evelyn left of her own free will. She has no love for Jon. He killed her husband, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" Sophina choked. She angrily wiped away the tear that leaked down her cheek. She hated how wine made her emotional.

"I know this must be tough for you--"

"You don't know anything!" 

She tried to find the words to express her grief and outrage but nothing came to her. Her beloved Evelyn was entering into another marriage so soon after Daminus' death. Sophina never even had a chance with her. And she felt so helpless that she couldn't help her family. She was needed here and it killed her.

"I doubt she loves him," Marcus said kindly. "I'm reasonably sure that Reynar has convinced her that her child's safety lies in the protection offered by royalty."

Sophina looked over at Marcus and willed herself to believe him. "You really think so?"

"Yes," Marcus replied, smiling. "The scar left by the loss of her soul-mate would require more time than this for her to fall in love."

Sophina fell quiet. She had forgotten what Jon said about soul-mates; about how the surviving partner never survives long.

"Is she...is she going to recover from that?"

Marcus frowned thoughtfully into the crackling fire. "You know, I have a good feeling about her. Undoubtedly, she knows how the child was conceived. Daminus used the soul-bond to transfer his soul over in order to quicken the seed. I think the imprint that action left will greatly ease the suffering his death has caused."

"The child saved her life," Sophina said. It made sense. A new life, a new reason to live.

Marcus nodded. "So you see, this marriage isn't as bad at it sounds. Evelyn will heal and we will get to her in time. She will see that Reynar has plans for the child that she won't like. After that...who knows where her heart will lead her."

He looked over at her and smiled. Sophina felt her fear and frustration melt away. She nodded her thanks and fell back in her chair. It felt like a weight had been lifted.

"You truly love her, don't you?" Marcus said.

"For many years," Sophina said happily. Suddenly, the roaring fireplace felt very comfortable.

"Have you always...been...well..." Marcus trailed off awkwardly.

Sophina laughed. "Have I always fancied women? It's ok, you can ask."

"Sorry," he said, his cheeks reddening in the glow of the fire.

Sophina smiled. "As long as I can remember, I've always felt more like a man than a woman. I never wanted to learn the womanly arts, like sewing or other such nonsense. All that ever interested me was fighting and making love to women."

"Have you never been attracted to a man?"

Sophina opened her mouth but slowly closed it. The memory of the goodbye kiss with Jon suddenly came floating up from the depths of her mind. She had felt something then, something she hadn't experienced before.

Marcus, ever the Oracle, seemed to sense what she was thinking. "Jon doesn't give his heart out easily."

"Why do you say that?" Sophina said, suddenly feeling the heat rise up in her own cheeks. It had to be the wine.

"I've seen the way he looks at you. Whether he knows it or not, I think you've claimed a special place in his heart. Now, whether that leads to love or not, I can't say. He has been hurt more than most men." 

Marcus stared sadly at his hands.

Sophina leaned forward in her chair. She no longer felt embarrassed but rather very curious. 

"I could sense that. But I know he would never tell me what it was." She left the question implied.

Marcus understood. "Sophina, I...I'm not one to speak of other people's secrets. Jon would have to tell you, if he wants to."

"Please? You know he would never tell me," Sophina begged, the wine making her more daring than she usually was.

Marcus grunted and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked at her worriedly. "The God knows Jon needs to talk to somebody about it. The only reason I would tell you is because I think that one day you may be able to truly help him and you need to understand him in order to do that. But if I tell you, you can't ever tell him, ok?"

"I promise," Sophina said quickly.

"Jon was married a long time ago, back before the War of the Gods. He met and fell in love with her while they were teenagers."

"What was her name?" Sophina asked.

"Her name was Sarah. Now, the God decreed that the Magi needed to procreate with non-Magi but Jon couldn't help himself; Sarah was the love of his life. So he went against his father's orders and married her anyways. The were very happy together. Sarah even became pregnant. Then came the War of the Gods."

"What happened?" Sophina asked eagerly when Marcus fell silent.

Marcus looked hesitant. "Sophina...I don't know if I should tell you this."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 16



"You went this far!" Sophina pleaded.

"Alright," Marcus said, giving in. "Jon met a fellow Magi during the war who would become his best friend. His name was Berrick. Sarah was left behind to give birth. When Jon returned to her, he brought her and their son to the war camps so he could keep on eye on them. Sarah was also a very good battle Magi and her skills were needed."

"Everything went wrong when Jon introduced Berrick to Sarah. After that introduction, Jon's marriage began to strain, for reasons he didn't know. Sarah would frequently find reasons to disappear. They were in the middle of a war, so Jon just assumed that it was related to that. He was wrong."

"She had an affair!" Sophina gasped. Her heart was breaking for Jon.

"Yes," Marcus replied sadly. "Though, not in the way you think. You see, as it turns out, Berrick and Sarah were soul-mates."

"Soul-mates? Like Daminus and Evelyn?" Sophina asked.

Marcus nodded. "Exactly like that. Sarah was caught in the pull of her soul-mate. Jon hated her but I...I felt sorry for her."

"What happened after he found out?"

"They had a falling out. Jon refused to see her or Berrick. It was only at the final battle of the war that he let her come back. Even then, they never had a chance to reconcile. Sarah died in that battle. She sacrificed her life to save Jon."

"She..sacrificed herself?" Sophina asked, dumbfounded. "But...but I thought she was in love with Berrick."

Marcus sighed heavily. "There is something that Jon doesn't know. I have never had the courage or the heart to tell him."

"What is it?" Sophina held her breath in anticipation.

"I..." Marcus bowed his head and Sophina was shocked to see tears falling into his lap. "I saw Sarah. She came to me when Jon banished her and Berrick. She had to talk to somebody. I was in a drug induced haze most of the time but I remember perfectly what she had to tell me. It still haunts me, to this day."

"What?"

"She told me that...that...she had never slept with Berrick."

Sophina stared at Marcus, shocked numb. "She didn't cheat on Jon? What did she do? I thought he caught her?"

Marcus choked out a sob and wiped his face. "She just would just lay with him with his arms wrapped around her. She never wanted to cheat on Jon but she couldn't deny the soul-bond. She said she felt so at peace when he held her. She couldn't resist that feeling."

Sophina couldn't believe it. For over two thousand years, Jon believed that his wife betrayed him. 

"What didn't she tell him?" she asked angrily.

"In her heart, what she did was just as bad a betrayal as sleeping with him would have been. She couldn't forgive herself for that. She made me swear I would never tell him, for hating her would be easier for him than knowing the truth."

"And so you have kept this to yourself for all these years," Sophina said slowly. She shook her head. "How many burdens have you had to carry?"

Marcus said nothing. Sophina studied him closely. In the light of the fire, she could see how his eyes were pinched in pain. His shoulders were hunched. His hands were trembling.

"Marcus, how are your dreams of late?" she asked suddenly.

Marcus shook his head. "Chaotic. The future comes and goes and is blown away like a leaf on the wind. I can't make sense of anything anymore. I fear my involvement has clouded my ability to see the future."

"Are they still painful?" she asked gently.

"They have gone beyond pain now. The chaos tugs and pulls me in so many different directions. I can't...I can't last much longer."

Sophina got up and knelt by his feet. She grabbed his hand. "Do you need to take more of the drug? Jon gave me plenty."

Marcus shook his head. "No. Jon wants me clear-headed so I can help you with my magic."

"Marcus...it may not be worth it. Pain can cause a person to do bad things."

"I'm fine!" Marcus suddenly roared. 

Sophina gasped and fell back. Marcus' eyes blazed gold for an instant before fading back to their gentle-blue color.

He put his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," Sophina said, uncertainly. She remembered the scene earlier in the day with the Magi Victus. Marcus had scared her then. "Marcus, I'm going to give you more of the drug. Let me find the tea kettle so I can--"

"Somebody's here," Marcus said suddenly, looking over at the staircase.

Sophina felt her heart start to speed up. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, they're outside."

"Who knows we're here?" Sophina asked hesitantly.

"We showed Peron where we're staying but not the hidden staircase."

"You think it could be Peron out there? But it's nighttime! It's too risky to be seen out with the war with the Magi Victus going on."

"There's one way to find out," Marcus said grimly. "Grab your sword."

Sophina hurriedly picked up her sword and followed Marcus up the staircase. They reached the top when Marcus looked at her. 

"Are you ready?"

Sophina was too nervous to talk. She nodded. Marcus pressed the hidden switch and the wall swung open.

Peron was standing outside, his sword drawn. "There you are!" he said happily. He sheathed his sword.

Sophina let out a relieved breath. "Peron, what in the nine hells are you doing here?"

Peron shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you needed help keeping your bed warm."

Sophina gritted her teeth. "Please don't tell me you came all the way--"

Marcus lurched forward suddenly and grabbed Peron's tunic. Peron's eyes widened in shock as Marcus lifted him off the floor. 

"You fool! You risked being captured by the Magi just to flirt with Sophina! You could have led them here! I should kill you for your stupidity!"

Sophina darted forward and grabbed Marcus' arm. It felt like grabbing the trunk of a tree. She couldn't move him at all. 

"Marcus, stop! It's ok! Put him down!"

Peron's face reddened in fury. "If you value your life you better drop me right now!"

Marcus snorted in disgust and dropped him to the floor. Peron landed smoothly on his feet and drew his sword. Sophina drew hers.

"Stop this!" Sophina screamed.

Peron ignored her. He stared angrily at Marcus. Marcus folded his arms and stared calmly back. Peron shifted his feet and Sophina stepped in front of him.

"You want to fight somebody? I could use a rematch. This time, I wont' stop at first blood."

Peron transferred his gaze over to her. For a long moment, neither one moved. Finally, Peron barked a laugh and sheathed his sword. 

"I love your spirit. You would do well in my country."

"No thanks," Sophina said, sheathing her sword. "Too hot for my tastes."

"Only under my blankets," Peron replied, without missing a beat.

Marcus growled behind her. Sophina could only shake her head. "Peron, I suggest you leave before Marcus really loses his temper."

Peron laughed. "I don't fear him. But as much as I would love to warm your bed for you, that's not why I came. There is somebody at the tavern who wishes to speak with you. I think you may want to come back with me."

"Who?" Sophina asked.

***

Sanje saw them long before they could see him. There was an advantage to living you life in the dark. A person could become too dependent on light to see. The dark held no secrets for him.

The woman was the easiest to spot. Her footfalls rang too loudly on the ground. The sword on her side rattled loud enough to hear a mile off. Well, at least to a man like Sanje.

The desert warrior Peron moved gracefully and with little sound. He was harder to spot. But not impossible. The moon was bright tonight and he wasn't keeping a close eye on his shadow.

The other man that accompanied Sophina earlier was the hardest to spot. He moved without sound and seemed to know the ways of the shadow. This man intrigued him most of all. 

Sanje's instinct told him that he only spotted him at last because the man wanted him to.

They came from different directions to avoid Magi patrols but arrived at the same time. The light from the tavern door drew them like moths. They stopped in front of the tavern and looked around.

Sanje dropped from the sky behind them, silent as death.

"You came," he said.

Sophina gasped and turned around. Peron swore and unsheathed his sword. The other man merely nodded politely at Sanje.

"Who are you?" Sophina asked.

Sanje smiled at the hint of fear in her voice. "I'm the man who nearly killed Jon Laurent."

"Sanje," Sophina hissed angrily.

"My reputation precedes me."

"What do you want?" Sophina snapped.

"We need to talk privately. The streets have ears. Chieftain Peron, is there a room available in that fine establishment of yours?"

"There is, shadow-man," Peron replied. "But we don't rent to the likes of you."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Sophina asked.

"How would I trap you in your own territory? I'm all alone, I assure you."

"He's telling the truth," the tall man said. "I can't sense anymore of them."

Sanje would give a mountain of gold to know who that man was. He looked so familiar. 

"You see? Now can we go inside?"

Sophina turned to Peron. "Peron?"

Peron growled but nodded to Sophina. "Follow me."

The tavern grew deathly quiet as their party entered. Sanje saw hard eyes follow him as he walked by. Peron led them through the bar to the stairs on the outer wall. 

Several doors filled the upstairs hallway. Peron chose the first one on the left and held the door open.

Sanje was the last to enter. The room contained a bed and a table. The desert people weren't known for their opulence.

Peron checked the room for hidden assassins before nodding his head. "It's clear."

"Please, let us sit," Sanje said.

Sophina watched him distrustfully as they sat down. She placed her sword within easy reach. Peron remained standing, hovering near Sanje's shoulder.

"I don't trust you," he warned.

"Good, you're learning," Sanje said sarcastically.

"What do you want, Sanje?" Sophina asked bluntly.

"I want you to back out of your deal with Raynolt," Sanje replied just as bluntly.

Sophina didn't reply immediately. Whether from shock or because she was thinking over what he said, he couldn't tell.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"Because if Jon Laurent really gives Raynolt that kind of knowledge, you will have an enemy on your hands the likes of which you won't believe."

"The secret of the Shadow Dagger," Sophina said.

Sanje nodded. "The teaching of magic I don't care about. But Jon Laurent must not tell Raynolt how to make a Shadow Dagger. He will doom us all."

Again, Sophina took her time replying. "But you said earlier that the knowledge of how to make it would be useless to Raynolt. I took that to mean that making a Shadow Dagger is only possible for Magi Victus."

"I bluffed," Sanje said bluntly. "The truth is, I don't want to think about what Raynolt could do with that kind of knowledge. I say it's only useful to us but I can't be sure of that."

Sophina sighed. "How can we trust anything you say? You hate Jon Laurent and want him dead. This could just be another ploy of yours."

Sanje scowled. "That's true. It's also true that Jon Laurent is the worst kind of man there is. The world would be better off without him."

It was Sophina's turn to scowl. "You don't even know him."

"I don't need to," Sanje said, his temper starting to boil. "The man betrays everything that he is. He is Magi Victus and yet he has never cared about us. He would leave us to rot if it suited him."

"The Magi Victus aren't what they used to be," the tall man said. "I would say that they betrayed him."

"What do you know?" Sanje sneered. "You have no idea what it's like to live like we do. Jon Laurent says we're just assassins now. That we lost sight of what we were meant to be. I think it's Jon Laurent who has lost sight. He doesn't see what we've had to do to survive."

The tall man frowned. Sanje could swear that he knew him from somewhere. But where? 

"Do you still keep to the faith?" the man asked.

Sanje stared at him. So did Sophina. "What does that mean, Marcus?" she asked.

"What do you know of the Magi Victus?" Sanje asked. Marcus, was it? The name didn't sound familiar. Sanje would figure it out later, when he had time.

"I know that you were once the true faithful," Marcus said sadly.

"That's dangerous knowledge," Sanje said slowly. "Our history is fragmented and incomplete, but the knowledge we do possess is only known by the Master Victus."

"Do you still keep to the faith?" the man asked again.

"We still kill Magi, yes. We just get paid to do it now."

The man nodded. "Jon is not as bad as you think."

"Forget about Jon Laurent," Sanje growled. "I didn't come here to talk about him. So, will you back out of the deal?"

"No," Sophina said. "We need his Magi in order to overthrow Reynar."

"Then kill Raynolt," Sanje said. "Use him and then kill him after it's done. Just don't let him have that knowledge."

"That's for Jon to decide," Sophina replied.

"Are you forgetting that Raynolt has your family hostage? With just a word, he can have them butchered like dogs."

"They're safe, for the time being," Sophina said coolly, though her eyes blazed with suppressed rage. "I can't let him split my focus."

"You're all fools," Sanje said, shaking his head. "You have no idea what Raynolt is capable of. He will be worse than Reynar if he gets his hands on that knowledge."

"We will deal with him when the time comes," Sophina said guardedly.

"I knew this was useless," Sanje said. He rose to leave.

"Wait," Marcus said suddenly. "I want to know why you aligned yourself with Raynolt."

Sanje hesitated. He had already betrayed himself if they were to speak of this with Raynolt. It was a gamble he had to take. Might as well take another one. 

"He promised freedom for the Magi Victus and a place in society if I helped him gained power."

Sophina shook her head. "You actually believe that? Raynolt would sooner give up his power than let the Magi Victus walk free."

"I'm not an idiot," Sanje said. "That's the excuse I used to manipulate him. In the end, I intend to completely wipe out the entire Emporium."

"You murderer," Sophina hissed. "How many lives are you willing to sacrifice? I should kill you where you stand."

Sanje shrugged. "I'm ready to die. Are you?"

"Wait," Marcus said, holding out his hand to Sophina. He eyes were locked onto Sanje's. "Tell me true, Magi Victus; you only care about your people?"

"I just want us to be free, one way or the other," Sanje said.

The man nodded. "I believe you. If you ever have the chance to talk to Jon Laurent, tell him what you just told me."

"If I have the pleasure of seeing him again, the only talking I will be doing will be with my Shadow Dagger."

"Please," the man said.

Sanje hesitated. His hatred for Jon Laurent was a raging inferno inside of him. But still, this man and his intense gaze was cutting through that inferno like a spear of ice. He didn't know why, but he found himself nodding.

"If I must," he growled.

Before they could force any more agreements out of him, Sanje walked to the window and flung it open. He turned back to them. 

"Remember what I said about Raynolt. Give him what he wants, and you doom us all."

And with that ominous statement, he leaped out the window and into the dark night.

***

Ashford shivered under his blanket while Jon piled up twigs and grass for a pitiful fire. The desert was not very accommodating for human beings. There would be precious few fires in the months to come.

"I'm always amazed how cold it gets out here at night. I've always wondered why," Ashford said, his teeth chattering. The wind blew by and stung his ears. He hated the desert.

Jon paused while he attempted to light the fire with flint and tinder. He looked thoughtful. 

And not the least bit cold, damn him. 

"I believe I heard a theory about that back in my time."

"You heard a theory about why it gets cold at night in the desert?" Ashford asked in amazement.

Jon struck the tinder and a spark leapt out over the twigs. It didn't catch. He sighed. 

"Back in my time, most Magi weren't very interested in learning offensive spells. After the defeat of the Warlords, we didn't know war until 150 years later. No, most Magi were more interested in studying the earth and what makes it tick."

"What did they say about the desert?"

Jon shrugged. "I can't really remember. It was over two thousand years ago. I think it had something to do with the fact that there is very little water in the desert. And maybe something about sand not retaining heat very well." 

He struck another spark and this time it caught.

"Huh," Ashford replied. He had no idea what that meant. "Well, I think we would all like the desert to have more water. And trees. And wildlife that won't try to kill you."

Jon laughed as he gently blew on the fire. It quickly spread and began to consume the twigs and grass. Ashford huddled closer to it gratefully. It wouldn't last long.

"This is indeed a strange land," Jon agreed. "And even stranger people. Tell me again, why was it so easy to challenge Sazon for control?"

"The people of Raves have a very complex system of honor, Jon. It wasn't as easy as you think. They worship battles and the heroes it makes. If a man has accomplished enough deeds, he may be worthy of challenging his Chieftain for control of the tribe. It's the way of life here."

"But I'm an outsider."

"Like I said, very complicated," Ashford said. "They don't really place much importance on where you come from. They hate outsiders, true, but they respect warriors even more. It was why they let Reynar challenge Peron for control of their entire army."

"But he is of their blood. It wasn't as complicated as this."

Ashford sighed. "I told you I still don't really understand them. Apparently, the fact that Reynar was of their blood had very little to do with it. They saw him on the battlefield and became to respect his prowess."

"And so by defeating Peron, Reynar took control of all the tribes and was able to arrange a meeting with their goddess," Jon said slowly.

"It was a privilege granted to very few men," Ashford said. "Not even Chieftains of individual tribes can see her. Reynar gained great honor by his defeat of Peron in single combat. Without magic, mind you."

"I know," Jon replied. "I can't use magic tomorrow. I understand."

Ashford leaned toward him over the fire. The flames licked pleasantly at his chest. "If they so much as suspect that you're a Magi, they will come after you until you're dead. So no matter what happens tomorrow, never use your magic."

"I won't need to," Jon said confidently. "I have been a warrior for longer than you can imagine. I don't need magic."

"I hope that's true," Ashford said.

"So," Jon said, holding out his hands to the fire. Maybe he was a tiny bit cold. "What was your position here? Sazon seems to greatly respect you."

"Like I said before, Reynar had me out here as an ambassador. I traveled to the different tribes and spoke to the Chieftains. I tried to show them that Astuari isn't as bad as they think."

"You seem to have made an impression on Sazon."

"He was one of the few," Ashford replied. "I think he's not as scared of magic as the rest are. He even seems to be fascinated by it."

"And does he know about you and his wife?" Jon asked, casting a sly glance at him.

Ashford coughed. Really, there was too much sand floating out in the desert. "That's not what it looks like. We have never--" 

"Excuse me, Ashford Caulston?" said a voice from behind him.

Ashford jumped in surprise. The blanket fell from his shoulders and he immediately regretted it. The wind stabbed through his clothing. He nearly blushed when he saw that it was just a woman speaking to him.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 16



"Yes?"

"My mistress, Istas, wishes to speak with you in her tent," the woman said shyly. She was a petite thing, barely coming up to his chest. She wore a loose dress of white and had white beads braided throughout her long hair.

"Uh..." Ashford replied nervously. He looked over at Jon. Jon was frowning at him. "I don't think--"

"Please," the woman begged. And to Ashford's great embarrassment, she prostrated herself on the ground before him. "She told me to beg you until you agree."

"I think you better go," Jon said. 

He was looking around at the tents surrounding their camping spot. The army had given them space to be by themselves but were close enough to watch them. Ashford could see several people watching him closely.

"Ok!" Ashford told the girl urgently. "Just please get up!"

She rose smoothly from the ground and beckoned Ashford to follow her. "This way, Ashford Caulston. I will led you to my lady."

"Don't do anything stupid!" Jon called after him.

Ashford didn't think that was possible. He tried his best to calm down as he followed the girl through several rows of plain brown tents. 

The rows stopped suddenly, leaving a huge clearing on the rocky soil. Several large tents dominated the clearing. One in particular caught Ashford's eye. 

It was the biggest tent he had ever seen. He could see a fire roaring inside and the shadows swaying on the walls. He heard music and laughter.

"Whose tent is that?" he asked the girl.

"That tent is the Chieftain's," the girl replied. "He hosts his lieutenants tonight. They feast and drink to his victory tomorrow."

"He seems very confident."

The girl bowed her head. "It is so. The Chieftain is a great warrior. Pardon me for saying this, Ashford Caulston, but you're friend will die tomorrow."

"We'll see," was all Ashford said.

The girl led him to the opposite side of the clearing from Sazon's tent. A rather large, four-sided white tent was staked to the ground. Ashford swallowed.

"My mistress awaits you within," the girl said, bowing.

Ashford held out a shaking hand and pushed back the tent flap. He ducked inside. He saw that the ground was covered in dozens of thick rugs. There was a brazier in the back of the room that heated the tent nicely. Several silk cushions lay scattered on the ground. But none of these things caught his attention.

It was Istas, standing up and bathing from a bowl in the center of the tent. She was completely naked.

"Oh, Ashford, you've arrived. Good." She spoke over her shoulder as she rubbed a wet cloth over her neck.

The water cascaded down her smooth back. Her ebony skin gleamed in the firelight. Her legs were thick and muscular and curved very nicely where they met her back.

"Istas..." Ashford said. His mouth opened and closed several times.

She dropped the cloth into the bowl and turned around, completely unashamed of her nudity. 

Ashford could only gape. Her breasts were heavy and her nipples were dark and erect. Her stomach was flat and lightly muscled and she had no hair between her legs.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked teasingly.

Ashford shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. "Uh...Istas...this isn't right."

She stepped closer to him. Ashford could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

"Too long have you denied me, Ashford Caulston," she whispered.

She held his eyes with her own. He couldn't break her gaze if he wanted to. Her dark eyes shone with her passion.

"If your husband-"

"My husband respects that my body is my own, to do with what I want," she said immediately. "I give him the same respect. Still, you struggle with this. This is how we are."

She stepped even closer. Ashford could feel the heat of her breath on his cheek. He could count the number of eyelashes. 

"He would still kill me," he whispered hoarsely.

"He would have to defend his honor," she said, agreeing. "But you are a powerful man, Ashford Caulston. That is why I am here now."

"I'm not a warrior like Sazon."

"No, you are something more," she purred. "I saw how you killed Ferzon. I had never seen so much power."

"I did what I had to do," Ashford said harshly.

He tried his best not to remember that. The man had been crazed with revenge. Ashford, or another Magi, had killed his son during the war.

"And you were right to!" she said, her eyes blazing with her passion. "You established your place among our people. No one dared to challenge you again. Not after you melted the sand beneath Ferzon's feet and held him in place with the glass you created. Not after you whipped the sand against him so fast that you shredded his body. And you did all this with words! What is Sazon's sword against your tongue?"

"Istas, please, I don't want any trouble."

"Do you know how many men fought over me?" she asked, ignoring Ashford's plea. "The Desert Blossom my people call me, for my white hair. A once in a generation rarity. Sazon killed every man who sought me. That is why I chose him."

"He is a good man," Ashford said carefully. He didn't like that look in her eyes.

"I care nothing for what kind of man he is. I only care for the way he inflames my passion with his victories, with his power. Now, I see a man before me with more power than my husband will ever know. And he denies me!"

She jabbed her finger into his chest, driving him back. Ashford stumbled back and fell to the rugs beneath him. Before he could move, Istas had pounced on him and straddled his waist.

"Grab my breasts," she commanded him.

Ashford shook his head, trying one last time to get out of the situation. Istas hissed and grabbed his hand and forced it onto her breast.

Once there, Ashford couldn't remove it. The flesh felt so warm under his hand. And soft. Her nipple pressed hard into the palm of his hand.

Slowly, as though time had slowed down, Ashford saw his other hand rise up and squeeze her other breast. 

Istas throw back her head and moaned as Ashford massaged her breasts. He couldn't stop now. He was a dead man but his mind had given in to the demands of his cock.

For a brief moment, he thought of Sophina. He thought about what Jon said about her. He knew in his heart that he could never win her. So he did what he did best; he let her go.

He snapped his head up, as quick as a snake, and brought Istas' nipple to his hungry mouth. She shuddered in his arms.

"Yessss," she hissed, grinding her body against his crotch.

Ashford sucked and pulled on her nipple with his teeth. Her breasts were so deliciously heavy in his hands. When he sucked long enough on one nipple, he switched to the other. 

He squeezed her breast in his fist to fit all the flesh he could in his mouth. He sucked and pulled hard. He let her breast go with a popping sound and pinched her nipples. They were as hard as steel.

He held her breasts in his hands and licked between them. He licked his way down her stomach before shoving her down on her back. He knelt over here and kissed her vigorously. She moaned against his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist.

They kissed for several minutes before Ashford broke the kiss to stand up. Istas eagerly sat up and grabbed the bottom of his robe. She wasted no time in standing up and pulling up his robe. 

Ashford raised his arms and she took it off and threw it to the side. He was left only in his smallclothes.

Ashford assisted her in taking those off or she would have torn them off his body. As soon as she discarded them, her hand shot down and grabbed his cock.

"My warrior," she whispered in his ear.

She quickly dropped to her knees and Ashford wished he had something to hold onto as she took him inside of her mouth. His knees buckled and she grabbed his thighs to keep him from falling. All the while her mouth was busy in swallowing most of his length.

"My God," Ashford whispered. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head as wave after wave of pleasure assaulted his brain. He had never had a woman do this before.

Her fingers trailed teasingly along the inside of his thighs as she busily worked on the head of his cock. 

Her mouth then trailed down his cock, sucking and biting as she went. Ashford almost collapsed when he felt her mouth engulf the heavy sack swinging below his cock.

She must have felt him tense because he looked down and saw her smiling as she twirled the sack in her mouth. 

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to have her or he would explode. He reached down and pulled her up by the arms.

She laughed. "Take me," she commanded.

Ashford was happy to oblige her. He picked her up and settled her down on some silk cushions near the brazier. He lay on top of her and kissed her breasts. She reached down and grabbed his throbbing cock.

"Show me your power," she grunted as she guided his cock into the warmness between her legs.

Ashford moaned out loud as he buried his entire cock into what felt like the fires of hell. The walls of her tunnel contracted rapidly as he slid in all the way. It felt as though she was trying to squeeze out the power he possessed.

They both moaned as their bodies repeatedly slapped together. She ran her hands through the stubble on his head and bit his ear hard. 

He roared and increased his tempo. The fire from the brazier was adding to the heat of their bodies. Soon, they were both slick with sweat.

Their bodies made wet sucking sounds each time they came together. The wetness from the inferno inside of her felt like a raging torrent. Ashford couldn't last much longer.

"Show me your magic," she begged him. Her legs clamped tight around his back and her nails dug into the flesh of his ass.

Ashford concentrated for a moment and opened himself up to his magic. Women knew to request this when they had sex with Magi. 

Ashford didn't mind so he built up the unfocused force of his magic and concentrated it to the length of his cock. He felt the current of magic in his body move along his veins and into his cock.

"Oooooohhhh," Istas moaned as she felt the magic stir to life inside of her.

Ashford gritted his teeth and held off the best he could. Their bodies were slapping together at his fastest speed possible. 

The cushions were tossed aside by their lovemaking. He dug her slowly into the rugs beneath them as he pounded her over and over.

Several times he felt her shudder underneath him as the magic did it's job. Unfocused magic was famous for overloading the pleasure receptors in a person's bodies. She wordlessly screamed and dug her nails more and more into his flesh.

Finally, he couldn't hold it off any longer. Sanity was restored to him in the instant before he erupted. He couldn't finish inside of a non-Magi. 

So at the last moment he roared and pulled out his cock with a wet, sucking sound and shot his seed all over her stomach and breasts.

She shuddered even harder than before when he withdrew. Her back arched into the air and her toes spread stiff. When the ropes of his seed hit her, she gasped and fell back to the floor.

"By the God," she moaned. Her hands ran over her stomach and her breasts, spreading his seed over her flesh. Her body glistened in the light of the fire.

Ashford collapsed next to her. His mind was blissfully blank for the next few minutes. 

She turned over to face him. "Tell me again that you're not a more powerful warrior than my husband," she purred.

Ashford had to chuckle. "If he finds me here, we're going to find out one way or another."

She rose up on her elbow and frowned. "He will not come back here tonight. No doubt some servant girl will see to his pleasure this night. And I don't like how you fear him. You should be the one to challenge him, not your friend."

"It wouldn't be fair to fight him with magic," Ashford said. 

He was tired and the God knew he should probably get back to the tent he shared with Jon. But it was so comfortable here.

"Death is not fair," she replied. "You are more powerful than my husband. You should lead us and take me as your wife."

"I'm not here to stay," he said carefully, afraid of angering her.

It didn't work. She hissed at him and rolled up smoothly to her feet. Ashford sat up and admired her body as she walked over to the bathing bowl. She picked up the cloth inside and began washing her breasts.

"Why did you come?" she asked as she bathed herself.

"Why did you?" Ashford shot back.

She turned back around to face him. Her face was blank. "My husband said the goddess commanded him to bring the entire tribe here. As to why, you will have to ask her."

"I intend to," Ashford mumbled. He stood up and grabbed his smallclothes. It was only when the silence stretched out that he realized what he said.

"You mean to see the goddess," Istas asked, amazement and incredulity in her voice.

"Forget I said that," Ashford grumbled. 

Way to go, Ashford. Just give away our plan to anybody who will listen. Stupid! This is what happens when you let your cock take over.

"Your friend intends to take control of all the tribes, not just this one," she guessed. Her voice was pitched with excitement. "Can you two really pull that off?"

Ashford looked at her and studied her carefully. She stood naked in front of him, her chest heaving with excitement. Her eyes shone and she was looking intently at him.

I've already said too much, Ashford decided. He picked up his robe and pulled it over his head. 

"That's what we're hoping."

"You do this and your name will be sung for generations," she said wonderingly.

"Not mine. Jon's," he corrected her.

Her eyes narrowed. "I will not let you give credit to this friend of yours."

Ashford laughed. "Try to stop him. I wouldn't recommend it, though. But don't worry; both of us will hold great power soon enough. More than I want."

"Then it's decided," Istas said suddenly. "If your friend kills Sazon tomorrow, you will take me as your wife."

Ashford would rather go to bed in a pit of scorpions but he didn't tell her that. He barely managed to mumble something before quickly ducking out of the tent. He stumbled into the night.

Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.

***

Evelyn watched the sunrise from her bed. The day dawned warm and bright as the sunlight poured through the windows and flooded her room.

The sunlight turned the tears on her cheeks into molten gold.

Evelyn figured she only slept for a couple of hours at most. But when her mind finally allowed her to sleep, she dreamt of Daminus. It was more of a memory, really. 

He had held her, wordless, while they napped during the middle of the day. The sun had been bright that day, too. The curtains had been pulled back to warm them as they slept.

Another tear flowed down her cheek and hit her pillow. Before she discovered she was pregnant, she knew that dream would have driven her mad with grief. 

Now, however, it was just bittersweet. She even smiled a little as she wiped her eyes and sat up in bed. She would need that dream to get through the day.

Her wedding day.

The thought had kept her up for most of the night. She was terrified. It wasn't until she fell asleep that she realized it wasn't the marriage she feared. 

She understood the reasons behind why she had to get married. Political marriages were very common and weren't always about love . She would do almost anything to protect her child's future. It made sense.

No, what she feared, and what caused her great embarrassment, was what had to happen after the wedding. She knew she could survive getting married again. 

Daminus would understand that. And she knew the child in her womb had saved her from the sure death that awaited anyone who lost their soul-mate.

But the thought of physical intimacy with another man so soon after Daminus' death made her nauseous. 

Reynar had promised to find a way out of it but he hadn't told her anything since then. And tonight was when the marriage was suppose to be consummated.

If Reynar couldn't find a reasonable solution, she would just have to find the courage to go through with it. 

The thought made her ill and she clutched her stomach. For a brief moment, she thought she felt something move.

It was the first confirmation she had yet experienced that she did indeed carry Daminus' child within her. Tears threatened to pour down her cheeks again. Her child moved inside her!

A knock rang loud on her door. "My lady, are you up?"

"Come in, Eve," Evelyn called out. She got up and threw on her robe.

Eve walked into the room. "I'm here at dawn, as requested, my lady."

"Thank you," Evelyn said. "I wanted to get an early start."

"Very smart, my lady. I believe your dress should be delivered shortly. You should see it, my lady. It's the most beautiful dress I have ever seen."

No sooner had she spoken then there came a knock on the door. Eve opened it and several women walked briskly in, trailing a long dress behind them.

Evelyn gasped. Three women walked in carrying it in their arms and still the tail end of the dress hung down!

"My lady," one of the women said, bowing her head. For some reason, her eyes were red.

Evelyn reached out her hand and ran it over the dress. She gasped again. "What is this cloth?"

"It comes from the King's personal stores, my lady," one of the women answered. It sounded like she had a bad head cold. "Nobody knows where he gets it from."

The dress was simply stunning. It was so white it made all other white cloth look gray. Countless leaves of gold twined, danced, and flowed along the length of the dress. The leaves were so expertly sewn that they seemed to actually move, as though ruffled by a gust of summer wind. 

The fabric flowed through her fingers like water and was somehow smoother than silk. Yet when Evelyn tugged it, it felt as tough and durable as steel.

For the briefest of moments she felt her baby stir suddenly inside of her. Golden runes seemed to flash along the dress for that brief moment. 

Evelyn shook head and the vision faded. Somehow she knew that magic was used to produce this cloth. She had never seen anything like it.

"Tell Oberta she outdid herself," Evelyn whispered in awe.

Evelyn looked up when only silence greeted her words. It was then that the red, puffy eyes and the congested voices finally registered with her.

"What is it?" she asked, her heart filling with dread.

One of the women bowed her head. "My lady, I hate to bring you this news on your wedding day, but Oberta passed away last night in her sleep."

Evelyn didn't know what to say. She had barely known the old woman but somehow her death greatly affected her. The dress was too beautiful to be made by mortal hands. Surely the God would have blessed Oberta with unending life.

"I'm so sorry," was all Evelyn could offer them.

The women sniffed and wiped away tears. They were all middle-aged but they looked like lost little girls who just suffered the death of their mother.

"She died happy," one of them said. "This dress was her greatest creation. She worked on it for a week straight, my lady. She hardly slept. I thank the God that she managed to live long enough to meet you, my lady. She told us after that meeting that you were so beautiful and would do the dress justice."

Evelyn bowed her head. It was all too much. "Will you do me the honor of helping me fit into it?"

The women smiled and bowed their heads.

***

Reynar stood at the window at looked out at the palace grounds. It was a chaotic harmony down there. Various tents and chairs were being arranged for the wedding feast. 

Kids laughed as they darted between legs and chased each other. Voices yelled and laughed and buzzed with excitement. Everywhere he looked he saw women sewing and men sweating. Cooks and kitchen maids ran everywhere. Bags and bags of food were being unloaded from countless carts.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 16



Reynar should have been smiling with joy. Instead, he was simply tired and so very weary. After two hundred years, the day of his wedding had finally arrived. Why, then, did he feel so miserable?

"You should try to smile, my lord," Sereph admonished him. "You need to look happy today. People will be watching."

Reynar turned around. Sereph looked as calm and unmovable as always. How he envied the man. 

"Are we doing the right thing, Sereph?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "You know the costs if we don't."

"I feel dirty," Reynar admitted. "I shouldn't be forcing myself upon this woman, so soon after her unspeakable tragedy."

"You have no time to spare, my lord."

"I know, the pregnancy," Reynar said, sighing. "My heart is heavy, Sereph. I don't know if I have it in me to smile. I have made so many sacrifices to get to this day. How many more must I make before the end?"

"As many as necessary," Sereph said with great conviction. "I know you're troubled by the seamstress' death, but it had to be done. The safety of Evelyn's child depends of total secrecy."

"I know," Reynar admitted, hating himself for it.

"It's almost time, my lord. You should get dressed." Sereph's voice was gentle. 

He helped push Reynar when he needed it but the man was also human. The sacrifices hung heavy on his conscience, too.

Sereph closed the door behind him. Reynar dropped his robe to the floor and walked over the his dressing stand. His wedding outfit hung neatly arrayed on the stand. 

Reynar ran his hand through the familiar fabric. Truly, many wonders came from that land beyond the desert. Maybe one day he will give up his throne and ride to lands never seen by man.

He smiled. It was an old fantasy, as familiar as a woman's touch. He dressed quietly and with great care. The breeches were pure white with golden crowns sewn up the legs. 

Over his white shirt, he pulled on a white tunic that was mostly gold with the numerous crowns and roses sewn in on the front. The golden collar was stiff and buttoned up beneath his chin.

He pulled on soft, white gloves made from the same material. He sat down on his bed and put on the bright, golden boots made for him for this day. They were stiff and uncomfortable.

He picked up his sword from the ornate stand it rested on. The sheath was golden leather but the grip was white. He slung the sword and it's cloth strap over his shoulder to where the strap hung diagonally across his chest and the sword rested against his side.

Lastly, he picked up the golden crown that rested on a velvet cushion next to his bed. He turned it in his hands. He suddenly remembered the day he was crowned. 

All of his friends had been there; Ashford, Braxus, Altus, and Christiana. They had teased him good-naturedly when he met them afterwards.

All but one were dead now. That life seemed like a thousands years ago. With a bittersweet smile, Reynar donned his crown.

***

Evelyn doesn't love him, Sophina repeated to herself for the hundredth time as they swept along the road with the crowd. 

Marcus smiled reassuringly next to her. He was there for her, Sophina knew. Marcus' smiles said more than his words.

Sophina had to admit, to her utter disgust, that the prospect of a royal wedding really was quite exciting. The people around her talked excitedly as they made their way to the Royal Quarter. 

She was surprised to hear people talking about Evelyn as if they knew her. She knew Evelyn was famous but it irritated her to hear people speak about her so familiarly.

Sophina reflected on the last time she had come down this way. It had been their big plan to assassinate Raynolt during his ceremony. Sophina had been excited and scared, then. 

Now, she felt only dread. She wouldn't be mounting any rescue attempts. She would just keep the hood of her cloak low over her face as she watched the woman she loved get married.

The thought bugged her. Ever since her talk with Marcus the night before, she really started to question her love for Evelyn. Marcus' leading questions about Jon had really upset her. 

She was almost scared to acknowledge that she might actually be attracted to a man.

No, that's not quite right, Sophina thought. She never really found men to be particularly attractive. She much preferred the soft curves and gentle lips of a woman. If she was honest with herself, she still wasn't attracted to men.

She was just attracted to Jon.

The thought unsettled her. She knew it didn't really make sense but, at the same time, it did. Jon wasn't a man in her mind. 

He was...her sword instructor. The person who went out of his way to take care of her, who had gifted her with the most remarkable sword in existence. The person who never looked down on her for being a female solider, who respected her skills.

She knew she still loved Evelyn. But the more she thought about it, the more she came to realize that she loved her in an impersonal way. The way a shy, awkward teenage girl looked up to her hero; to a woman who had gone fearlessly into battle to protect the person she loved.

She loved the idea of Evelyn more than she loved the person. She barely knew the person. She knew Jon in the subtle glances, the way he touched her while showing her a new move.

She knew she loved Jon the man. She feared Jon the assassin. Who was he, really? She wished she knew.

"Are you ok?" Marcus asked, leaning in to whisper over the general hum of the crowd.

Sophina nodded. "I'm ok. Look, we're here."

The crowd began to spread out along the perimeter of the Courtyard of the Twelve. The magnificent golden statues of the founding Order of Magi gleamed in the bright sunlight. It was a beautiful summer day to get married.

Sophina and Marcus found a good spot to stand to watch the proceedings. Sophina glanced around at the many guards patrolling the courtyard. She nervously tugged the hood of her cloak tight.

"Don't worry," Marcus said, leaning in closer again to whisper. "Reynar doesn't want a big commotion to ruin his big day. I doubt the guards have orders to look for you. They're mainly watching out for Magi Victus."

Sophina thought he was right. Looking around, she saw several people who looked as nervous as her. Several more people were pointing at the hundreds of guards as if to assure their loved ones that no Magi Victus would dare attack.

Sophina looked around while she waited for the wedding to begin. The courtyard had been decorated for the wedding. 

Everywhere she looked, she saw roses of gold hanging from street corners, from rafters, from trees, and from the statues, too. 

The podium where Raynolt had been raised to Grand Master was richly decorated with gold and white colors. It was tradition for the king or queen of Astuari to marry in the traditional summer colors of white and gold. 

Sophina wondered where that tradition came from. She wondered if Jon knew.

Thinking about Jon got her contemplating her feelings for the next several minutes. She was eventually broken out of her thoughts by the blaring of trumpets. 

She glanced up quickly and saw a long procession snake it's way from the palace and through the gates of the courtyard.

The wedding had begun.

***

Jon woke as soon as the sun tinged the sky with it's riot of colors. He sighed in relief. He sleep dreamlessly.

Good thing, too, or my nightmares might have sapped my strength for this fight.

He exited his tent to find Ashford oiling the sword Jon was going to use. Jon raised an eyebrow.

"I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong," Ashford said, smiling sheepishly.

Jon chuckled. "You worry too much, my friend. I didn't see you come in last night, by the way."

He noted the blush that suffused Ashford's cheeks. "I didn't want to disturb you so I slept in the back of the cart. The tarp kept the wind off of me."

Jon bent down and snatched the sword from Ashford's hand. If he kept oiling it like that, it would slip right off Sazon's skin.

"Was she as fierce as she looked?" Jon asked offhandedly, as he used a cloth the carefully dry the blade.

Ashford coughed into his hand. "I was about to cook breakfast. Do you want some?"

Jon snorted. "No time. Besides, it will just weigh me down."

A crowd had begun to gather around them. Jon ignored them as he began to stretch his muscles. He concentrated on each group of muscles as he stretched them for a count of twenty seconds.

After he was done stretching, he picked up his sword and began to dance the old, familiar dance. He moved through his forms with no thought of the people watching him. He cared only for the blade in his hand.

The blade sang as he slashed it through the air. He developed a good sweat with the leaping and diving moves he incorporated into this dance. 

He had no idea of the amount of time that passed as he completed the forms he had drilled into his memory several centuries ago.

When he did look up, he saw the stunned looks of the faces of the people around him. Even Ashford's jaw was slack.

"Where did you learn that?" a deep voice called out.

Jon turned to the side. Sazon had arrived. He was shirtless and held his sword in his hand. The powerful muscles in his chest contracted with each slow, measured breath. The man was a warrior, through and through.

"I taught myself," Jon replied honestly. 

He stripped off his brown tunic and tossed it aside. He wasn't nearly as big as Sazon, but his muscles were honed from thousands of battles.

"You do not wish to wear armor?" Sazon asked in surprise.

"Armor is for cowards," Jon replied.

He saw something like respect flash in Sazon's eyes. "It is so," he agreed.

They were slowly ringed by hundreds of steel-eyed warriors. The sun was still low in the sky but already the air was warming up. Sazon had promised one last sunrise. It was time.

"Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion, I, Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, by virtue of my accomplished deeds, challenge you to the right of leadership of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ashford nod. They had gone over the formal challenge on the trip here.

"I, Sazon, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion, accept your challenge. Let all here recognize your claim and follow your lead if I should fall. Let it be recognized."

"We hear your words, Chieftain, and will follow your commands" came the formal response from the thousands of warriors surrounding them. Many of whom, Jon saw, didn't look too happy to say that.

"Let us begin," Sazon said. He raised his sword in a salute. Jon raised his.

Sazon was on him as fast as that. His double-edged sword came flashing at him from every angle as Jon parried and deflected his blows. 

Jon measured his breathing, slow and easy. He simply kept his guard up for the first few exchanges so he could measure Sazon's skill.

The man was good. Very good. Warriors from Raves valued speed over power but Sazon had both. His muscles were overly large but rather lean, built for speed and endurance. His natural strength was great, too. Jon's arm shook from the blows he deflected with his thin, single-edged sword.

But Jon had fought against god-like beings thousands of years ago. Sazon was a child compared to that.

Within half a minute, as Jon settled into the familiar rhythm of the battle, he already knew how this fight would end.

Make it close, he remembered. Ashford had cautioned him to make the fight believable. Otherwise, they would never follow him. They would know him to be unnatural. 

So Jon concentrated on denying his instincts. He let his guard slip for a second.

Sazon seized the chance. His sword darted in and slashed a line across Jon's arm. His warriors yelled and shouted insults. Sazon smiled as he circled back in. Jon ignored the blood and the pain as he engaged him again.

Sazon frowned in concentration as Jon drove him back with his attacks. Jon thrust his sword out and Sazon sidestepped it. He brought his sword down in a vicious slash but Jon rolled forward, the sword hit only air, and he sprang back up to his feet.

Sazon roared louder as he slashed his sword toward Jon's head. Jon brought his sword up to deflect the blow harmlessly aside. 

He rammed his shoulder into Sazon's chest. Sazon's breath was knocked out of him with the blow. He stumbled back. Jon kicked out and connected with Sazon's face. There was a sickening crunch as Sazon fell to the ground.

Jon jumped in the air and brought his sword down in a thrust. Sazon quickly rolled away and Jon's sword imbedded in the earth. He yanked it out as Sazon caught his breath. His nose was crooked and bleeding heavily.

"Well fought," Sazon said, spitting blood. "But now you die, Astuarian."

He roared and charged him with lightning fast speed. The blows came in a blur. Jon blocked each one just in time. He could hear the silence of the crowd as they held their breath.

Jon grimaced as he let Sazon cut him across the thigh. The wound spurred Sazon on more. Jon barely had to pretend to be pressed as Sazon came at him with an incredible speed.

What a warrior, Jon thought in amazement.

Sazon's sword slipped through. The sound of flesh being spit open reverberated over the crow. Jon slumped over, his shoulder leaning against Sazon's chest.

Sazon's sword was sticking in the air, next to Jon's back. The crowd roared and thundered.

"NO!' Ashford's voice could be heard calling.

Jon jerked suddenly. The crowed fell quiet. 

Jon stepped back calmly. Sazon's sword was only pressed against his side and sticking in the air. The angle the crowd saw looked as though Jon had been impaled.

But it was Sazon with a sword sticking out his back.

"I'm sorry," Jon said quietly. He tossed Sazon's sword aside and withdrew his own blade from Sazon's stomach.

Sazon stared down at his wound in wonder. His hand shook as it came away, dripping dark red blood to the dry earth. He looked up at Jon, stunned.

Sazon's face contorted into rage as he roared, louder than ever before. Jon jumped into the air, his blade spinning in a blur. He landed on one knee, his sword extended out from his body, blood spraying the air in a fine mist.

Sazon gurgled as the deep cut in his throat poured out his life's blood. He dropped to his knees, his eyes bulging, and collapsed to the ground.

Jon stood up and shook the drops of blood from his sword.

Ashford walked up to him. "I thought he almost had you," he said hoarsely, his face white.

"That's what he thought, too," Jon replied.

He turned to look at the soldiers surrounding them. Sazon's lieutenants sat on top of their horses, faces still and unreadable. Slowly, they began to clap. The army took it up. Soon, the desert shook to the thunderous applause of the warriors.

"Hail, Chieftain Jon of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion!"

Jon smiled.

***

Evelyn, despite her anxiety, couldn't help but feel nervous and excited as she stood in the entrance hall of the palace. The beauty and the pageantry of the wedding had startled her. 

Trumpets blared outside, as did the voices of the assembled crowd. Several important nobles talked excitedly as they walked out the entrance door and down the wide, gold carpet. They would arrange themselves around the podium to act as honor guards.

Evelyn nervously rubbed the wonderful fabric of her dress while she waited her turn. The dress had fit her perfectly. It had long sleeves and left a respectful amount of her breasts bare. Her face and hands were the only other body parts showing. The voluminous dress covered the rest of her.

The train of the dress was so long that it required three servants to lift it as she walked. The servants all wore simple gowns of pure white and were suppose to blend into the background.

"Absolutely magnificent," a voice breathed from behind her.

Evelyn turned her head and gasped. Reynar stood behind her, dressed in an exquisite outfit of white and gold. The colors clashed somewhat with his dark brown skin, but not enough to be unsettling. His dark hair was combed artfully to the side. He was very handsome indeed. Evelyn blushed as she bowed her head.

"Thank you, my liege," she said humbly.

Reynar raised her face with his fingers. His dark eyes drank in her face hungrily. "You never have to address me as 'my liege,' again. Please, call me Reynar."

"I can't!" Evelyn said, horrified. "We are not yet wed, my liege. It would be improper of me."

"I see," Reynar said, a sad smile on his face. "May the God grant us a good wedding so that I may hear my name spoken on your lips."

"My liege," Evelyn said, blushing again. She glanced around nervously at the remaining nobles in the room. They were very politely engaged in their own conversations.

"Evelyn, I must ask you one more time, before it's too late. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes," Evelyn said without hesitation. "My decision has been made. This is the right thing to do. Besides," Evelyn added, gesturing to the open door. "I don't think the people would let us leave here alive without getting married."

Reynar smiled, though Evelyn thought it looked strained. "Don't worry, I would protect you."

Evelyn tilted her head. There was something wrong with his face and with his words. "Are you ok, my liege?"

Reynar waved his hand. "Not to worry, my dear Evelyn. It's nothing. Just some last minute nerves, that's all."

Evelyn nodded, though she still wasn't quite convinced. She let it go. She had something more important to ask him. She stepped closer and lowered her voice as quietly as she could.

"My liege...have you had time to figure out our...er...situation?"

Reynar looked at her blankly for several moments before his eyes widened in understanding. He kept his voice just as quiet.

"My lady, please forgive me, but I'm afraid other matters of state have captured my attention these past few days."

"It's ok!," Evelyn said, her voice reaching a higher octave than normal. "Don't worry about! I know you have the war with the Magi Victus weighing heavily on your mind. We will just...figure something out tonight."

Reynar looked troubled. He looked sideways nervously but nobody was left in the entrance hall except Evelyn's servants. "Evelyn, I'm afraid we have--"

"My lord, it's time," a voice called sharply.

Reynar looked up, his mouth twisting briefly in anger before the courtly mask was back in place. "Thank you, Sereph. Evelyn, please take my arm."

Evelyn placed a shaky hand on his left forearm and began to walk towards the door. Her servants quickly picked up her train and walked behind her. 

Reynar's manservant, Sereph, bowed low as they passed. His eyes considered her briefly before he lowered them respectfully.

Evelyn stepped out of the doors and into bright sunshine. The royal guards stood at attention on either side of the carpet, their swords held high over their heads, like a canopy. 

Evelyn looked at the swords nervously as she passed underneath them. The guards, in their shining silver breastplates and gold coats, never so much as glanced at her.

Soon they passed the canopy of swords and approached the gates that led into the Courtyard of the Twelve. 

It was here, near the walls of the palace, that the sound truly hit her in full force. Her stomach fluttered as the noise threatened to stop her in her tracks.

Reynar smiled kindly down at her and tugged her hand. She took a deep breath and stepped forward with him. They passed through the gates and into the courtyard.

The crowd roared as they caught sight of them for the first time. Evelyn's stomach churned horribly as sweat began to bead on her forehead. 

She had never seen so many people in her life who were focused on her. Evelyn was grateful to hold onto the rock that was Reynar's forearm. The man was use to this kind of scrutiny.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 16



Evelyn glanced up at him once as they made their way to the central podium. He was smiling but Evelyn could definitely see the strain in his eyes this time. Could it be possible that he was as in much doubt of this marriage as she was?

The poor man never asked for this, Evelyn. He's just doing what's right. Daminus would understand. You know this. Let it go, Evelyn. Just let it go.

Evelyn's stomach stopped churning. Her hand stopped shaking. She looked up at him with clear, calm eyes.

"Reynar," she whispered.

He heard her. "Yes?" he whispered back.

"It's ok," she said. She willed her strength into her voice and into her eyes as she looked deep into his. "It's ok."

He was so shocked that he almost stopped walking. His eyes searched hers desperately. She stared back, unblinking. His face sagged in relief. The tension left his shoulders. For the first time that day, he truly smiled at her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse with some unknown emotion.

They had arrived at the podium. They climbed the short steps, Evelyn doing so very carefully. It wouldn't make a good impression to trip over her own dress. 

Once she was standing in the center of the podium, her servants set down her train and withdrew.

The High Priest of Astuari stood before them. The man was old, his face lined and his head bald. He wore simple robes of molten gold and no jewelry. The priests of the Temple of Astuari owned no possessions, save the clothes on their backs and their holy books.

The Magi council were arrayed in a line at the back of the podium. Raynolt stood slightly out in front. His eyes found hers and he winked, a smug smile plastering his face. 

Evelyn didn't want to know what that look meant. Besides, she didn't want to think about him right now. The murderous impulse still beat loudly in her heart.

The High Priest raised his arms for silence. The chattering crowd quickly quieted. Evelyn looked out over the crowd. She saw little girls sitting on top of their father's shoulders. 

The more Evelyn looked, the more women she saw in attendance. Every single one of them were staring at her, their eyes filled with adoration. Evelyn looked away.

"My good people of Astuari," the priest began, "we are gathered here today to bare witness to the crowning of a new queen, as King Reynar Lobare takes the Magi Evelyn Ventus' hand in marriage."

"Let us bow our heads and give thanks to the God for this wondrous day. Let us ask Him to bless this marriage so that it may be fruitful."

"Let us ask Him to give his appointed King and Queen wisdom, so that they made guide us through troubled times."

Only the wind could be heard as it rustled the trees. Every head was bowed for a long minute. Evelyn herself prayed for the strength that would be needed in the years to come. She prayed that her child be born healthy and know only peace.

"Bless us," the priest said, and the spell was broken. "King Reynar, if you would please turn and take Evelyn's hands into your own."

Reynar turned sideways to the crowd and Evelyn did the same. She placed her hands in his. They were rough from hard use but were very gentle. Evelyn's hands were still. There was no more doubt in her heart.

The priest turned toward her. "Evelyn Ventus, please answer each question I ask you and remember that your answers are promises made directly to the God."

Evelyn nodded. The priest continued, his voice booming. "Evelyn Ventus, do you swear to uphold the laws of Astuari, to follow them precisely as you help govern this country?"

"I do," Evelyn said clearly.

"Do you swear, in the name of the God, to take King Reynar Lobare as your husband?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to obey only the commands of the King, who is the appointed heir chosen by the God?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to be faithful only to your husband?"

"I do." Her hand twitched in his. Reynar squeezed it reassuringly. She tried her best to not think about Daminus.

"Do you swear, by your duties as Queen, to be loyal only to the throne of Astuari?"

"I do."

"The God has heard your answers, Evelyn Ventus, and has heard them to be true. They are now bound, without end, to your immortal soul." He smiled kindly at her and turned to face Reynar. The crowd roared it's approval.

"King Reynar Lobare, as heir to the throne of Roshard Ronar, do you wish this woman, Evelyn Ventus, to be your wife, to rule by your side as Queen of Astuari, and to bear the next heir to the throne?"

Evelyn let out a relieved breath as her part was over. Her eyes traveled over the crowd as she let the priest's words wash over her. 

It should have been impossible, of course, to spot her in this crowd. But something had drawn her eyes to that very spot.

Maybe it was the hood. It was a very warm summer's day to wear a cloak. Or maybe it was the color, blue, the same as Daminus' eyes. For whatever reason, her eyes were drawn to that spot.

"Do you swear to be faithful only to your wife?"

The person wearing the hood raised their hand's and slowly lowered the hood.

"Do you swear to help guide her, that she may rule wisely by your side?"

The hood fell down to her shoulders. Evelyn knew, even from this distance, that it was Sophina. She could see the hair that was longer than it normally was, how it was dyed black. 

Evelyn's own hair was blonde and cut short, just as Sophina's had been. Just like the woman who had saved her life.

"Do you swear to relinquish the throne to her, in the event that you should pass before her?"

Sophina's eyes glistened with tears. They rolled down her cheeks. Evelyn felt her heart flutter in her chest. She deserved better than the parting they had shared that day, right here in the courtyard. 

The hood came back up and Sophina disappeared quickly into the crowd. A man next to her ran after her.

"The God has heard your answers, Reynar Lobare, and has heard them to be true. They are now bound, without end, to your immortal soul."

The priest turned toward her. Evelyn blinked. He smiled patiently as Evelyn suddenly remembered what she had to do. 

I'm sorry, Sophina. I hope to see you again. I owe you that much.

Evelyn slowly knelt on the ground, careful not to rip her dress. The priest turned to the side as a servant walked up, holding a cushion with a gold tiara on top. 

The priest picked it up gently and raised it above his head. The sun gleamed off the numerous jewels that decorated it. She heard a collective sigh of admiration from the crowd.

"By the authority given to me by the God and the crown, I now name thee Queen Evelyn Ventus, Protector and Mother of Astuari." 

He lowered the tiara and placed it gently on top of her head.

The crowd roared so loudly that the ground shook. Hundreds of instruments suddenly burst into life. Reynar reached down and helped Evelyn to her feet. 

His hands slid around her waist and Evelyn's arms automatically entwined around his shoulders.

Reynar bent down and kissed her.

*

Note: Chapter 17 - Evelyn struggles to consumate the marriage, Jon leads his army into battle, and Raynolt hatches a plan.

Sidenote: I want to thank everyone for their kind words and for the great feeback I get. I just have one, little tiny request, if everyone would be so kind. Can you please vote on the chapter? I don't care what score you give me but I want to try to get at least 100 votes per chapter so it can be ranked on the top lists. Go back and vote for any chapters you might have missed! Thanks!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 17



Evelyn remembered little of her wedding feast. From the moment Reynar's lips touched hers, her mind retreated behind a wall. It wasn't a conscious decision. Perhaps deep down she realized that she wasn't ready yet.

She did remember bits and pieces, though. She remembered sitting next to Reynar on top of a huge dais as they feasted. Numerous tables were lined up below them and were filled with various Magi and nobles.

She recalled several important people rising to their feet to toast her and wish her well. She knew there had been countless acrobats and musicians. She even remembered laughing at some bawdy song.

She remembered the wine, especially. The wine was a godsend. Thoughts of what might happen that night caused her to drink glass after glass. Perhaps that's why she recalled little of the feast. She wasn't known to be a heavy drinker.

Memory wasn't recalled clearly until this very moment, as she rested her head against the glass window of her bedroom. No, not her bedroom; their bedroom.

Reynar had led her up to the room to soothe her head. He said he needed to break up the feast and send everybody home before coming upstairs. So she still had time to think about what was going to happen in this bedroom.

Laughter floated up from the courtyard below her window. Hundreds of torches painted her face in flickering red shadows and illuminated the scene below. 

A band of musicians was playing a fast tempo song as hundreds of people stepped in rhythm together on a wooden dance floor. An open-sided tent had been erected to keep the weather off of the dancers. The fabric fluttered from a warm summer breeze.

Evelyn's heart ached as she watched the merriment below her. She would have loved to been here with Daminus. They would have celebrated the marriage of a new queen by drinking and dancing. Daminus had loved to dance.

With a pain almost too great to bear, she remembered her own wedding. She had worn a simple dress of blue. Daminus had matched her with a beautiful coat and trousers made especially for that day. His blond hair seem to glow under the sun.

She remembered looking up at him, seeing his wide smile and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. Those precious lines would never leave his eyes. He had loved to smile too much to worry about such things. Her smile had matched his that day. In fact, she couldn't recall it ever leaving her face the entire day.

It was the little things, like his laugh lines, that she remembered the most. She closed her eyes at the memory of his face and exhaled slowly. He was dead and never coming back. She promised herself that she had to let go. Daminus wouldn't want her to wallow in self-pity.

The sound of footsteps broke her out of her thoughts. She glanced down at the courtyard again. The musicians were putting up their instruments, much to the dismay of several drunken onlookers. Men and women were slowly walking out of the gate, the women mostly supporting their husbands as they stumbled down the path.

The footsteps stopped by the doorway. Evelyn turned from the window. "I hope I didn't deprive people of their fun," she said.

Reynar walked into the room hesitantly. "Of course not, my dear. Truth be told, if I let them drink much more this palace would have probably been burned down by morning."

Evelyn laughed. She felt a small bit of tension leave her; a small mercy. "It was a lovely wedding," she said, as the silence stretched between them.

"I agree," Reynar replied. He walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

Evelyn felt the tension returned as she noted where he sat down. She quickly looked away. "I'm afraid it was all a blur to me," Evelyn said, hoping to delay the inevitable.

"And for me, too," Reynar said, his voice suddenly husky. "I still can't believe it actually happened. To be married to such a remarkable woman..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Married. For some reason, the word shocked her. She reached up hesitantly and felt the tiara still resting on her head. It was real.

"I really am the queen," she breathed.

"Do you regret it?" Reynar asked quickly. He sounded vulnerable.

"It's too early to know that," Evelyn said truthfully. "As of right now, it still feels right to me."

"Good," Reynar said, sounding relieved. He looked down at his hands and took a breath. "About what I promised you..."

"It's ok," Evelyn replied, though she felt anything but ok. "I know you have too much to deal with as it is."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Now that the moment had arrived, Evelyn felt strangely detached. Perhaps she was retreating back into that safe place in her mind. Ever since her coma, she could feel it there. It was a place where Daminus was still alive.

"Tell me more about this process," Evelyn said, finally breaking the silence. "Why is this necessary?"

Reynar shifted on the bed. He cleared his throat before speaking. "As we discussed before, the continuance of the Lobare line is of the utmost importance. It's my line that the God declared to be the rule of Astuari. It has to be secured."

"I understand that," Evelyn said, nodding. "I just don't understand why a royal physician has to actually make sure the marriage was consummated."

"It's a valid question," Reynar replied. "A few generations ago, the King at that time was...well...I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to speak bluntly. The King held no desire for what a woman possessed between her legs."

Evelyn gasped. Reynar smiled awkwardly and Evelyn couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. 

"He didn't desire women? Then that means..."

Reynar laughed. "Yes, he much preferred the more rugged sex. So, as you can probably guess, the line of Lobare was in trouble."

"How did they resolve that?"

"They tied him down, blindfolded him, and had the queen speak in a deep voice!" Reynar said, shaking with laughter.

Evelyn couldn't help but join him; his laughter was infectious. "Poor man!"

They enjoyed the laughter for several blissful moments. Finally, the laughter died away and the awkward silence returned, even heavier than before.

"Ever since then the physicians make sure that the marriage is consummated the night of the wedding. Nothing can jeopardize the line of Lobare. Nothing."

"I see," Evelyn said, sighing. "Then there probably isn't a way to fool them, is there?"

Reynar shook his head slowly. "I wish I had time to think of a solution but nothing is coming to me. After we...finish, they will come by and examine you. They will see if my seed..."

"I understand," Evelyn replied. She looked around the room, her heart thumping into her throat. She opened her mouth once to speak but only a squeak came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Can we do this in the complete dark?"

"Of course!" Reynar said, hopping up from the bed. He strode around the room, pinching the candles as he went.

While he did that, Evelyn stood up on shaky legs and closed all the curtains in the room. The light in the room vanished almost completely.

A ball of mage light appeared near the ceiling, illuminating the room in a pale blue light. "I will dismiss it once we're ready," Reynar said.

Evelyn didn't know what to do next. Neither, it seemed, did Reynar. They looked at each other uncomfortably as another silence stretched between them.

"I guess...we get undressed?" Reynar said, his voice creaking with nervousness.

"It feels like we're children again," Evelyn said. She laughed shakily.

Reynar tried to smile but it slid on and off his face. "Before we do anything, I want to once again apologize. I know this isn't what you wanted so soon after Daminus' death."

"Please," Evelyn pleaded, holding up a hand. "Don't say his name."

"I'm sorry," Reynar said, stepping toward her. He took her hand in his and looked down into her eyes. "Once it's dark, it will be easier to imagine that it's him and not me. It won't hurt my pride, I promise."

Evelyn felt her strength leave her. She dropped her head against his chest. "Thank you."

He said nothing. He rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. Evelyn closed her eyes and kept her head resting on his chest. She could hear his heart thumping away.

She wasn't surprised when she felt his caressing hands slowly tug on the shoulders of her dress. One dark hand slid the strap on her left shoulder down her arm. Goosebumps erupted along the wake of his hand.

"Is it ok?" he whispered.

Evelyn nodded into his chest, her eyes still closed. "The light, please."

Everything vanished into darkness. A ball of warm light filled her stomach, where a new life was growing. The warmth rose up through her chest, soothing away all worries and doubts.

"It's going to be alright," Daminus breathed into her ear.

Her soul sang in joy when she heard his voice. The warmth spread into her fingertips. "Be gentle," she whispered back. "It's been a while since we've done this."

"I know," Daminus whispered.

He rubbed her arms, spreading fire through her limbs. The other strap of the dress came down her arm. She shrugged out of it. All the while, a steady bump bump beat within her stomach.

She felt Daminus kneel on the floor. He gently tugged the dress down her body. He caressed her ankle and foot as he slid it out. She was left standing in a modest shift.

Bump bump.

His hand rose slowly up her thigh, bunching the shift around his hand. She arched her back and purred. Daminus always did have magic hands. Those hands slid softly up her thighs, making her shudder.

Bump bump.

Daminus stood up, towering over her. The shift followed his hands. Evelyn raised her arms and felt the cloth leave her body. His hands descended down her arms in a loving caress. They trailed lightly across her chest and down to her nipples. Two thumbs passed ever so slightly across her nipples.

She gasped and clutched his coat. She hurriedly started to undo the buttons on his coat.

Bump bump.

His hands stopped their caress of her breasts long enough for him to shrug out of the coat. Evelyn hissed in impatience when she felt the shirt on his chest. The laces on that were quickly undone. Being considerably taller than her, he lifted the shirt off of his head himself.

Bump bump.

His hands continued their work on her breasts. She ran her hands over the hardness of his chest and stomach, feeling hard, knotted muscle. The warm feeling inside of her faltered for a second. Daminus had always been soft and firm, not heavily muscled.

Bump bump bump bump.

The warmth filled her once again. She smiled as she playfully bit his chest. She felt him gasp and shudder slightly. She ran her tongue over the hard groves on his stomach and knelt down, tugging on the laces of his trousers.

Powerful hands helped her unlace them faster. She smiled at his impatience and lowered the trousers to the ground. She picked up each foot to remove his boots and the legs of the trousers.

Bump bump.

They were both naked now. Evelyn stood up and ran her hand along his thigh. She trailed it across the top of his crotch and down the other thigh. She could feel the heavy breathing above her. Her hand bumped slightly against the hardness hanging between his legs.

Bump bump bump bump.

Evelyn blinked but it didn't do any good. The room was too dark to see anything. The cock in her hand was unfamiliar. Had it been so long since she had last been with Daminus?

BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP.

Yes, it had been that long. Her hands and feet tingled from a rush of warmth from her stomach. All was right in the world again. She had her love, her husband, her soul-mate.

Daminus' hand eagerly appeared between her legs as she caressed the solid weight of his cock. His fingers lit a fire between her legs with every slight brush, sending waves of goosebumps over her arms. In an instant, his fingers were coated with her wetness.

She shuddered with pleasure and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Do you like that?" he whispered.

"I've always loved that," she moaned.

His finger withdrew from between her legs. She sensed some type of hesitancy from him. But before she could think about that, his finger returned quickly, sending more waves of pleasure through her body. She knew he was enjoying it; she could feel his cock throbbing in her hand.

"I want you," she whispered by his ear, before gently biting it.

He didn't waste any time. His powerful arms scooped her up off the floor and he carried her over to the bed. She heard him moan as she continued to suck on his ear. Her lowered her to the bed gently.

"Come here," she urged him, as she pulled on his cock.

She felt his weight settle over her, his cock resting against her soaking tunnel. He moved slowly, deliberately, as he rubbed his length against her. She gasped, her back arching beneath him, as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm her.

"Please," she begged him, not quite knowing where the desperation came from.

She felt him hesitate for a slight moment as the head of his cock stop short of entering her. "Are you sure?" her husband whispered.

"Yes, you fool!" she cried, reaching down to grab his throbbing shaft. 

She shoved his cock toward her opening but she missed. He got the hint, though. His hand replaced hers and he slowly guided his burning cock into her opening.

She dug her hands into his back and bit down hard on his shoulder as he entered her. For a brief moment, his cock felt unfamiliar inside of her. The warm feeling that had suffused her since this started fled her, leaving her almost shivering with cold and confusion. 

Then another great burst of warmth spread up from her stomach and into her limbs, leaving her giddy with pleasure.

She held him tight as he slowly began pumping inside of her. Every thrust sent shivers of bliss through her, causing her to clench hard around his cock. The friction between her clenching and his hard cock was the most incredible feeling she had ever experienced.

"By the God," he grunted, as he increased the tempo of his thrusting. "This is better than I ever imagined!"

She couldn't respond. Her focus was solely on enjoying every second of this long-missed night of passion. Before long, he was moaning as much as her. She held back her own ecstasy as she felt the pressure build up inside of his cock.

He cried out and buried his head against her shoulder as he pumped his seed inside of her. The warmth of his seed pushed her over the edge. She cried out, too, as she shuddered beneath him.

The next few minutes were spent catching their breath. Every twitch of his body sent another jolt of pleasure through her. He seemed reluctant to withdrew his cock from her. Even now, he was hard and showed no signs of softening.

"Do you want to go again?" he asked eagerly.

She was tired and wanted nothing more to fall asleep in his arms. But perhaps she had another session left in her. She opened her mouth to tell him so but the warmth that had sustained her the last hour suddenly vanished.

She gasped. It felt as though a veil had been removed from her eyes and heart. "Daminus?" she asked fearfully.

She felt the man on top of her stiffen. "No," Reynar replied icily.

"Get off!" Evelyn screamed, pushing against his chest. 

Reynar scrambled across the bed. "What in the nine hells is wrong with you?"

Evelyn chocked back a sob and pulled the blankets up to her chin. "Just leave me, please!"

"Evelyn, what--"

"LEAVE!" she screamed desperately.

It was too dark to see him but she sensed him walk across the room, perhaps to grab a robe. "I will send the physician in," he said, his voice cold and emotionless.

Evelyn didn't reply. She heard the door close. As soon as it did, she buried her face into her pillow and wept. She didn't allow herself to weep long, however, because she didn't want the physician to think anything was wrong.

But something was wrong. She knew what it was. She sat up on the bed, wiped her eyes, and put her hand on her stomach. She had somehow been fooled to think that Daminus had come back to her and had made love to her.

It was as though somebody had sought to protect her. The warm feeling...it had come from her stomach.

From her baby.

"What are you?" she whispered into the dark room.

Her words hung in the air, unanswered.

***

Reynar shut the door behind him and leaned his forehead against it. Did that really just happen? She really thought I was Daminus?

He had been so excited, too. He thought she had finally decided to open up to him. What just happened in there was one of the most erotic things that he had ever experienced. And now...now he just felt sick.

"My liege?" a voice asked from behind him.

Reynar suppressed a sigh and turned from the door. A female physician stood nervously before him. "She's ready," he told her.

The woman smiled in relief. "I'm so glad to hear that, my liege. We have been worried for many years."

"Well now you don't have to!" Reynar snapped, before he could control his emotions.

The physician blinked uncertainly. "My liege...if I offended you, please forgive--"

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired," Reynar interrupted. "It's been a long night. Please, don't let me bother you any longer. I know you're probably anxious to examine her already."

She bowed. "Thank you, my liege."

Reynar strode swiftly down the hallway, the physician already out of his thoughts. This night hadn't turn out the way he had hoped.

And what was I hoping for, really? That she would just forget about Daminus and welcome me with open arms? Oh God, I am a fool. Even if she could love me, it wouldn't last long. Not after I do what I have to.

He didn't want to think about that right now. It was his wedding night; he wanted to at least enjoy one night of peace. 

He should have known better.

"My liege, there is urgent news," Sereph greeted Reynar as he walked into his private study.

Reynar swore quietly under his breath. "Tonight, Sereph? Really?"

Sereph fell silent, his eyes studying Reynar's face. Reynar turned away from that piercing stare. "It didn't go well?" Sereph asked quietly.

Reynar turned, his mouth opening to tell Sereph the truth, when he spotted Lenard standing back behind Sereph, his body half hidden in the moonlight filtering in from the tall windows.

"What's the urgent news?" Reynar asked instead.

Sereph motioned Lenard to join them. "My liege, Lenard has some very troubling news to share."

"The man can speak for himself, can he not?" Reynar growled, suddenly too impatient to deal with formalities right now.

"Yes, my liege," Lenard said, bowing. "As Sereph said, I have very troubling news. I hate to bring this to you on your wedding night, but I don't think it's wise to waste any more time."

"Does this have anything to do with Raynolt?" Reynar asked, guessing.

Lenard nodded. "Two days ago Raynolt received a message from Sophina Crews. Apparently she managed to catch a Magi Victus in broad daylight. She threatened him to carry a message to Raynolt and Sanje."

Reynar tensed. "She captured a Magi Victus? In broad daylight? How?"

"I don't know, my lord. But that's not the worst of it. Apparently she sought out Raynolt in order to form an alliance."

"Not unexpected," Reynar said, frowning. "I don't see the urgency of this news."

"My liege, Sophina Crews has somehow managed to hire Peron and his mercenary band. They intend to storm the palace to assassinate you. We just had a meeting an hour ago. They were discussing the logistics of this attempt."

"I knew I should've killed Peron when I had the chance!" Reynar growled. He punched his hand into his palm so hard that for a moment he thought he broke his own hand.

"That's still not the worst of the news," Lenard continued. "Apparently, in order to entice Raynolt and his loyal Magi to join them, Jon Laurent has offered to teach Raynolt the secret of the Shadow Dagger and all he knows about magic. He's also willing to give Raynolt his own Shadow Dagger."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 17



Silence followed his words. Reynar looked incredulously toward Sereph. Sereph's mouth was set in a firm line. Reynar shook his head, hardly daring to believe it.

"Jon Laurent will never reveal those secrets to Raynolt," Reynar breathed. "He can't!"

"I doubt it, myself," Lenard replied. "But still, the offer is most troubling. With that kind of power, there's no telling what Raynolt would be capable of."

"Raynolt has become a liability, my liege," Sereph said, his eyes focused on Reynar's face.

Reynar clenched his teeth to contain his anger. "I told him what would happen if he outlived his usefulness. Sereph, order the immediate arrest of Raynolt Teryus for treason against the crown. If any Magi attempt to aid him, arrest them, too. See to it yourself."

"And what of Peron and his men?" Sereph asked.

"How many men does he command?"

Sereph frowned in concentration for a moment. "We severely limit the number of warriors from Raves who wish to visit Astuari. I would say he has twenty men, give or take."

"I asked how many men he commands, Sereph, not the number of men he has with him right now. We both know that his men are spread out in the towns and villages within a day's ride of the city."

"Apologies, my liege," Sereph said, bowing. "In that case, Peron commands 1,000 men."

Reynar rubbed his chin and contemplated his next move. "Sereph, what's the latest count of our standing army?"

"We command 5,000 men, my liege. Most of our army is tied up with the war against the Magi Victus. They're currently patrolling the city streets with the Magi."

"The war with the Magi Victus will have to wait," Reynar said. "I want 3,000 men guarding the walls of this city and this palace. Issue orders to the guards at the gate. Raves warriors are no longer welcome in the city. Evelyn must be kept safe at all costs."

"My liege, what about the Magi Victus? This will present the perfect opportunity for them to strike," Lenard said.

"The Magi will have to make adjustments. We can spare 2,000 soldiers but that's it. Besides, we need only to prevent an attack until Evelyn gives birth. After that, we can focus on the Magi Victus again."

Reynar knew he had said too much when Sereph shot him a startled glare and Lenard looked at him curiously. "What happens when Evelyn gives birth?" Lenard asked.

"Remember who you're talking to," Reynar reminded him, his voice cold and hard.

Lenard paled. "Forgive me, my liege," he said, bowing.

Reynar turned to Sereph. "There are groups of Magi and soldiers patrolling tonight?"

"Yes, my liege, as we speak."

"Find the nearest group and have them seize Peron and anyone else with him. I want them taken alive, understand?"

"I will see to it immediately," Sereph replied.

"Lenard, make your way back to the Emporium quickly and seek out Raynolt," Reynar said, turning toward Lenard. "I don't want your cover blown just yet. You will have to be arrested."

Lenard smiled slightly. "I look forward to it, my liege."

"Sereph, one more thing," Reynar said suddenly. "Raynolt may not come quietly. After you see to capturing Peron, I want you to personally lead a squadron of soldiers and loyal Magi to take him."

Sereph bowed low. "Your will is my command, my liege."

"Go, and may the God be with you both."

***

Sophina sat nursing her ale, her back against the corner of the tavern wall. Nobody bothered her in her corner. Peron's men talked noisily and shouted often as they played their dice games.

Every now and then Peron would look back at Sophina and turn away smiling, no doubt at the look of loathing on her face.

The tavern door opened, causing the torches next to the door to flicker briefly as the warm air rushed in. Marcus closed it behind him and made his way over to Sophina. He looked at the grimace on Sophina's face, smiled, and sat down in front of her.

"I don't want to talk," Sophina said immediately.

Marcus shrugged. "That's fine. Barkeep! Ale, please."

Marcus' ale was delivered in short order and he sat quietly as he drank it. Sophina glared at him but it didn't seem to have any effect on him. 

She sometimes wished she was still in the army. A look like that would have sent the men serving under her scrambling.

"I don't care that she got married," Sophina said finally, unable to stand the silence anymore.

Marcus raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "Oh, are we talking about that now?"

"Don't think I'm not sober enough to stick my dagger in you," she warned him.

Marcus smiled at her. "We'll get her back, don't worry."

"I don't care that she got married," she repeated, her eyes burning. She took a gulp of ale and had to swallow around the lump in her throat.

Marcus cast his eyes down respectfully. "I'm sorry."

"I let her go," she admitted, wiping angrily at her eyes. "That's why I got upset like that."

Marcus looked back up at her, frowning. "You let her go?"

Sophina took another long gulp of ale before answering. "In my heart, I let her go. I knew I could never have her, that my love for her was based more on admiration than any qualities that she possesses."

Marcus looked at her in admiration of his own. "You grew up. You're becoming wise in your old age."

Her beer missed the mark as Marcus quickly ducked to the side. The liquid splashed across the table and onto the floor. Marcus popped back up, smiling.

"Be careful! This is the finest silk, you know."

Sophina loved him at that moment as she threw her head back and laughed. 

God, I needed that! If I becoming wiser with age, I'm definitely growing more emotional! Ten years ago I would have slapped myself for acting like this!

She smiled fondly at him once the laughter died down. "You look like him," Sophina said, not really thinking about what she was saying.

"Everyone used to always say that," Marcus said. He sounded sad.

"What was he like, back then?" Sophina asked. She hoped he didn't realize how intensely curious she was about his answer.

"Happier," Marcus replied, truthfully. "Always laughing. Even when the war started, he would find a way to make his men laugh. Everyone loved him."

"Do you think he could ever be that man again?"

Marcus smiled at her knowingly. Sophina was deeply embarrassed to realize she was blushing. "With the love of a good woman, I think it's possible. You know anybody?"

This time, Sophina threw her glass at him. He caught it nonchalantly, smirked at her, and put it back on the table. "Are you done wallowing now?"

"One of these days..." she muttered. Her threat was ruined somewhat by the amusement in her tone. "Let's go home."

"Leaving so soon?" Peron called as they walked toward the door.

"Some of us actually have to sleep!" Sophina called back. "Besides, I think I need a long, hot bath after that meeting with Raynolt."

"Need somebody to scrub your back?" Peron called hopefully.

Sophina shook her head. What is it with these men? She smiled as she thought it.

Marcus opened the door for her. "After you," he said, bowing.

Sophina scowled and turned toward the opening.

A host of soldiers greeted her outside.

***

Sanje kept to the shadows as he silently stalked the group. He noted the movements of his men in his peripheral vision. Hopefully, they would get out of this with minimal losses.

The two Magi and their escort of twenty soldiers peered nervously at every intersection, completely unaware of how Sanje and his men stalked them from the shadows. Sanje's Shadow Dagger was vibrating slightly on his hip. The two Magi weren't particularly powerful.

They held torches to better illuminate their positions. Sanje shook his head; this was definitely a very odd war. They pointed themselves out on purpose, in order to draw in an attack from the Magi Victus. Otherwise, they could search the whole city and never find one.

Of course, Sanje knew something they didn't. The war was rigged. Eventually, the Magi would "win."

Sanje frowned as he continued his silent approach. The whole war didn't feel right to him anymore. Ever since he had that meeting with Sophina Crews he hadn't felt the same. That man with her, Marcus, had asked some very troubling questions.

Damn him! I was perfectly happy hating Jon Laurent's guts. Why did he have to ask those things of me?

Sanje had promised he would talk to Jon before he tried to kill him. 

Is he really more than I give him credit for? The man managed to hide the fact that he is a Magi. What else don't I know about him?

Sanje had assumed from the very beginning that Jon cared nothing about the Magi Victus, that he only looked out for himself. Was it possible that Jon actually had a plan for them?

Shaking his head, Sanje focused on the task at hand. The Magi group was positioned exactly where he wanted them, at an intersection of four streets. He knew his men could see his position. The shadows hid nothing from the Magi Victus. They just awaited his signal.

Sanje withdrew his dagger and raised it in the air. He was about to bring it down to signal his men when there was suddenly a commotion among the Magi group.

A man dressed in the armor of a royal guard had come sprinting down the street. "Wait!" he called.

Sanje gave his dagger a shake, signaling his men to stand down. He watched intently. 

"Wait! I have orders from the King!"

The Magi watched warily as the man came sprinting up. He spoke to a rather tall Magi in hurried sentences. Sanje couldn't make out the words from his location. The Magi listened silently for several minutes before gesturing to the soldiers around him.

The group turned around from the direction they were headed and starting jogging. Sanje gave the signal to follow as the group ran right past his hiding spot. Sanje smirked as he stepped out of the shadow of a building and started following.

Sanje grew uneasy as the group ran toward a section of the city he was very familiar with. After all, he had just come from there earlier in the day. After several more minutes, he knew for a certainty where they were headed.

They were headed to the Snake Pit tavern. Their little conspiracy had been sniffed out.

Sanje briefly thought about disappearing into the night. As the Magi group surrounded the tavern, he even turned around to go back. But something held him there. Something that nagged at the corners of his mind.

He withdrew his dagger and gave the signal.

***

"Attack!" Sophina managed to scream, as she struggled to unsheathe her sword. 

But it was too late. The guard closest to the door had already drawn his sword. He brought his sword back and quickly thrust it at her unprotected stomach. 

Sophina gasped, amazed, as the sword stopped inches from her stomach. A hand had appeared out of nowhere to catch the blade. She looked up and saw the murderous face of Marcus.

Marcus snarled as he threw the sword aside, as though it was just a toy. He stepped past Sophina and thrust his hand out, palm outward. His palm impacted against the guards chest with a golden flash and a sickening crunching sound. The guard's breastplate crumbled inwards and he was blasted off his feet and thrown backwards into several of his fellow guardsmen.

Despite her amazement and shock, Sophina had finally managed to unsheathe her sword. Sounds of shattering glass and wood sounded behind her. Men cried out and steel rang as guards swarmed on the little tavern.

Marcus, his eyes glowing gold, roared a challenge and ran out into the night. "Die!"

Sophina tried to follow him but was quickly intercepted by three guards. The first guard was still blinking stupidly as Sophina stepped past him, her sword slick with blood. 

He looked down at his stomach, at the neat line etched in his armor. Blood poured out and the breastplate fell apart at the cut. The runes on Sophina's blade shone brightly in the moonlight.

Sophina ignored the dying guard. She balanced herself on the balls of her feet and eyed the two remaining guards warily.

"It's Sophina Crews!" one of the guards hissed. "He wants her taken alive."

"Are you insane?" the other guard said. "We can't go up against that sword! You saw what it just did to Roman's armor!"

"Cowards!" Sophina roared as the guards took off running.

She grunted suddenly, jerking forward. Her breath was tight in her chest as she looked over her shoulder in confusion. 

An arrow was sticking out of her back.

"Damn," she muttered, blood suddenly dripping from her lips. She stumbled against the side of the tavern.

She looked up. The archer had drawn another arrow and was pointing it right at her. Without warning, the archer suddenly jerked. 

He dropped to the ground, dead. A shadowy figure saluted her and moved on to backstab another guard.

She looked around and saw that more shadowy figures were appearing out of the night, quickly dispatching guards.

An arrow slammed into the wall next to her, nearly taking her in the eye. Another archer had evidently targeted her for death, as he ignored the battle raging around him. Blood dripped down into his eye. He wiped it away quickly and nocked another arrow.

A roar of inhuman rage made her look up. The archer who had shot at her was staring fearfully at a roaring Marcus. Marcus gestured with his hand and the archer exploded all over the street. Bloody chunks of archer rained down all around Sophina.

Marcus made his way toward her but was cut off as two Magi stepped in front of him. "Hold there!" one of them cried.

"Is he a Magi?" the other one asked desperately. Apparently, whatever they were trying wasn't working.

Marcus spared them a brief, contemptuous look. He didn't even gesture. The Magi fell to their knees, clutching their ears.

"It's so beautiful!" one of them cried out. His head promptly exploded.

Marcus ignored all of this as he strode toward her. He grabbed her arm. "Hold still," he said, his voice ringing in her ears. He pulled out the arrow in one swift jerk.

Sophina gasped and fell to her knees as fresh blood poured out. Marcus knelt quickly beside her and started singing. At least, that's what it sounded like to her. She knew what this power felt like; she had experienced it before.

This time, the peaceful song was too short for her taste. Before she knew it, he was hauling her back to her feet. "Are you ok?"

Sophina nodded, flexing her arm. She felt as good as new. She quickly looked around and saw that the battle was mostly over. Peron's men were out on the street now, taking care of the remaining soldiers. She saw Peron laugh as he cleanly sliced the throat of a guard.

"It's over," Marcus said, his eyes still shining.

Sophina nodded wearily. "How in the nine hells did we get ambushed?"

"Somebody talked," Marcus growled. He was staring at the shadows of a nearby alley.

A shadowy figure emerged and walked towards them. Sophina recognized Sanje as he drew nearer. "It wasn't me," he said.

"Thanks for your help," Sophina said quickly. Marcus didn't look like he was in a mood to believe anybody.

Sanje shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Really, thank you," Sophina insisted. "You saved my life."

She couldn't see his face in the shadow of his hood but she thought she sensed his smile. "Perhaps now you will listen to me."

"All these Astuarian dogs are dead," Peron announced as he walked over to them. "Even the Magi. Unless my mind had finally started to wander, I believe we owe that to this friend of yours, my dear Sophina. His is a story I would very much like to hear."

Marcus didn't respond. He just continued to stand there, his golden eyes staring off into the night. "It calls to me," he whispered.

Sophina jerked up straight. "What was that, Marcus?"

She could see the confused look on Peron's face and the stiff way Sanje stood but she didn't have time to worry about that. 

"What?" Marcus asked, distracted.

Sophina gently grabbed his arm. "Let go now, Marcus. It's safe."

Marcus slowly turned his head and looked down at her. His golden eyes continued to blaze. "No," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion.

Sophina started to sweat. She saw Sanje make a movement under his cloak. "Marcus, please, let go. Do you need more of the drug? Come on, I have some more for you."

"No!" Marcus roared. His hand shot out and grabbed her neck. Instantly, Sophina's air was cut off. "You dare try to poison me?"

Sanje moved. One moment he was standing there, the next moment his Shadow Dagger was reaching for Marcus' chest.

Marcus dropped Sophina, grabbed Sanje's wrist, and hurled him against the side of the tavern. The wooden walls shattered and Sanje disappeared inside.

Sophina coughed out several breaths and picked up her sword. "Marcus...stop..." she gasped.

Marcus' eyes blazed with anger. He gestured at her with his hand.

"Jon!" Sophina screamed, as her body was jerked into the air. Instantly, her joints were pulled to their breaking point as invisible hands threatened to tear her limbs apart.

Marcus blinked. He shook his head. He growled angrily. Sophina cried out in pain as her joints popped and were dislocated. Still, the invisible hands kept pulling.

"Jon?" Marcus said hoarsely, as if he had never heard that name.

"Jon!" Sophina cried out desperately. "Your brother! AHHH! He...AHHH! Saved your...UGHHH...your life!"

"Jon," Marcus whispered, his voice as small and vulnerable as a child's.

Sophina cried out as the invisible hands dropped her to the street. Her limbs were on fire, as if they were coated in molten steel. She wept and bit her lip, tasting both blood and her salty tears. Warm blood gushed down her chin.

Gentle hands smoothed her arms. Where they touched, a tingling sensation followed. Sophina wept even harder as the pain slowly faded away. Death would have been a mercy at that moment. The sudden absence of pain felt almost as bad as the pain had.

"God forgive me," Marcus wept, his blue eyes watering.

***

"What's the latest count, Sura?" Raynolt asked, as he shuffled the papers on his desk.

Sura Montero, the 9th Tier Master, looked down at her notes. "Last night's activities increased the total of our dead to 45. We have killed at least 25 Magi Victus, though we can't be quite sure of that because of their habit to grab the body as soon as it falls."

"Good, good," Raynolt said, only paying half a mind to what she was saying.

He was restless. The thought of Jon Laurent's promise had him almost squirming in his seat with excitement. For the past couple of days he could think of nothing else.

The power I could wield...just the thought of it makes me hard! Raynolt shook his head as he watched Sura prattle on. 

Careful, if I really do get hard I don't want Sura thinking it's for her.

Raynolt smirked to himself, not paying the slightest attention to what Sura was saying now. The thought of sticking his cock in the very round Sura was almost enough to make him gag. It did, however, stir up some dormant feelings.

He hadn't been with a woman since he killed Morgana. That was something he was going to need to remedy. But who? He tapped his fingers on his desk and let his mind drift. His thoughts settled on the meeting he just got back from.

Sophina Crews...she certainly isn't the best looking woman. Very skinny and not enough flesh on her bones. But still...she holds great power over her men. If I could get her into my bed and dominate a woman who holds that much power, it would be enough to make me shoot my seed all over her.

He considered it for a moment while Sura continued to talk about death counts and patrol routes. Sophina wouldn't willingly come to his bed, he knew that much. Still, if she could be coerced...he did hold her family hostage, after all. He couldn't help but smile at the thought.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 17



"I can see you're pleased with my plans," Sura said, smiling at him.

"What? Oh yes, your plans. Yes, they're quite good. Is that all you have to report?"

"It is, Grand Master. You will think over my suggestion about the Merchant Quarter?"

"Certainly," Raynolt said, though he didn't have the faintest clue as to what she was talking about.

Sura stood up and turned to leave. "Do you want me to send in--"

"No," Raynolt said quickly, cutting her off. "I'm quite tired. I will hear more reports in the morning. Good night, Sura."

"Goodnight, Grand Master," she replied, bowing.

"Come out, Lenard," Raynolt said, as the door closed behind Sura. He had noticed his wards flashing several minutes ago.

The hidden door on the wall swung open and the red-haired Magi walked in. "Good evening, Grand Master," he said, bowing.

"Anything new to report tonight?"

Lenard looked like he was about to say something but he just shook his head instead. "It's pretty quiet, so far. There haven't been any battles tonight that I know of."

"The meeting went well," Raynolt said, conversationally.

Lenard walked to the chair Sura had just vacated and sat down. "I still don't trust them."

"Good," Raynolt replied, nodding. "I distrust everybody. That way, I'm prepared for anything. Still, I can't help but believe their offer is genuine. After all, they will get no help from my Magi if Jon Laurent doesn't come through on his end of the bargain."

"True," Lenard admitted. "Though having Magi help still doesn't guarantee victory. The plans we hatched tonight were very basic, at best. Reynar would laugh in our faces."

Raynolt shrugged. "It was the first meeting. The groundwork has to be laid first before we come up with a more complicated plan. I feel good about our chances, especially with that sword Sophina possesses."

"A truly remarkable weapon," Lenard agreed. He couldn't quite hide the hunger in his eyes as he said it. Raynolt smiled and filed that information away for later.

"With that sword, Peron's mercenaries, and my Magi, I think we stand a good chance. In fact, I--"

The wards on his door suddenly flashed. The door shook as somebody hammered on it with a fist. "Raynolt Teryus, open up."

"What is this?" Raynolt asked Lenard. Lenard shrugged.

Raynolt stood up but didn't move to the door. "Who is it that so rudely pounds on my door?"

"Sereph, manservant to King Reynar. In the name of the King, open up!"

Raynolt shared a startled look with Lenard. Hesitantly, Raynolt filled himself with his magic and gestured briefly at his door. The wards flashed silver and dulled to gray. He hoped the Magi guarding his door would be alert for any sign of trouble.

The door swung open as soon as the wards faded. Sereph strolled into the room followed by a large group of the King's royal guards.

"What is this?" Raynolt demanded. Lenard stood up and hovered by Raynolt's side.

Sereph stared at him coldly. "Raynolt Teryus, by the order of King Reynar Lobare, I hereby order your arrest for treason against the crown."

Raynolt felt a cold lump settle in his stomach. His hand twitched nervously. "What did you say?" he said quietly.

"You are under arrest," Sereph replied. "We know about your traitorous plot with Sophina Crews and the Chieftain Peron of Raves."

Raynolt's head snapped back, almost as though somebody had just punched him. How did they find out? he thought hysterically. He looked over at Lenard. Lenard turned toward him, his eyes wide and frightened.

Raynolt clenched his hands into fists. "I resent your accusations. I demand that you leave my office at once."

"Resistance, is it?" Sereph said, sneering. "I thoughts so. Guards, arrest him!"

Every guard crammed into the room suddenly unsheathed their swords. The rasp of metal echoed around the room.

"Do you know who you're dealing with?" Raynolt said, his voice as deadly as he could make it. Magic rushed through his veins like waves crashing against the dock. His eyes burned silver.

Sereph didn't look cowed. "Don't try it, Raynolt." He turned toward Lenard. "If he tries anything, stop him."

Lenard looked at Raynolt. Raynolt said nothing, but stared at him with burning silver eyes. Lenard turned back toward Sereph. "I don't think so."

Raynolt smiled. Lenard's loyalty had just given him an idea. He quickly formed the necessary runes around his mouth. He took a deep breath and bellowed, "The Grand Master is under attack by the King's guards! All Magi who are loyal report to my office immediately!"

His voice rang throughout the room like thunder. He knew his voice had just reached all the Magi within the city. The call was designed specifically to seek out anyone who could use magic.

"You just made a huge mistake!" Sereph hissed. "Guards, seize him!"

Raynolt spread out his hands as the guards rushed toward him. Arrows of flames flashed from the runes of his palms and shot straight toward the guards. Several arrows exploded violently against armor, sending bits of flesh and metal flying throughout the room.

Lenard had copied him, his arrows much more focused and stream-lined. They shot straight through several chests and exploded against the bookshelves on the wall.

In a matter of seconds, the room was cleared of guards. Raynolt scanned the room quickly and didn't see Sereph anywhere. "Where did he go?" he asked Lenard.

Just then, they could hear his voice down the hallway, echoing off the walls. "Raynolt has just betrayed the King! Stop him!"

"Let's go!" Raynolt roared, almost slipping on the mess on the floor as he ran for the door.

He immediately saw several of his men hurrying toward him, including two of his 10th Tier Magi. "Grand Master! What's going on?"

"Seize him!" came the call from the opposite side of the hallway. Sura was pointing straight at Raynolt. She had several Magi behind her.

The hallway exploded with power. Bolts of lightning, balls of flame, crumbling stone, and just about every offensive spell Magi knew thundered through the hallway.

Raynolt quickly surrounded himself with his 10th Tier protection spell. Several lightning bolts cackled and dispersed as they hit his shield.

"Protect the Grand Master!"

"Seize him! Don't let him get away!"

"Stop this madness!"

"Traitor!"

"Everyone, stop! Don't do this!"

Raynolt ducked as a large portion of the ceiling came crashing down around him. Cries of pain rang through his skull as dust filled the hallway. "Lenard!" he choked.

"Here, Grand Master!" came his voice. A hand grabbed his elbow. "We have to get you out of here!"

Raynolt didn't even bother replying. He ran as fast as he could, careful not to trip on loose stones and bodies. A Magi staggered in front of him, clearly disoriented. Raynolt growled and blasted him away with a quick spell of wind. He didn't even know if the man was loyal or not.

He turned into another hallway and stopped. More Magi battles were raging right in front of him. Several large groups of guards were attempting to push they way through the hallway.

"There he is!" a guard cried.

Raynolt flung a fireball at the man and smiled grimly as he cried out, his body quickly consumed by flames. 

A Magi blasted another Magi through the stone wall of the hallway and turned to Raynolt. He flung out his hand and sent three quick arrows of flame at him.

Raynolt grimaced as the successive impacts almost penetrated his protection spell. The attack was of the 9th Tier. The last arrow briefly opened his shield but it closed quickly.

Thank the God that the was the last arrow! 

Suddenly furious, Raynolt wove his fingers through the air and chanted under his breath. Runes settled over the ceiling. An instant later, the hallway shook as the ceiling cracked all the way down.

The Magi who shot the arrows of flame cried out as a large section of the ceiling crashed over him. Several more Magi screamed in terror as the hallway collapsed. The rubble effectively blocked off the group of soldiers still trying desperately to get to him.

"This way!" Lenard gasped, pulling Raynolt's arm. He pulled him in the other direction.

The silence of the opposite hallway gave Raynolt chills. He could still hear echoes and bangs but they grew more distant as Lenard and he made their way through the deserted hallway.

"Here," Lenard said, stopping by a door. He opened it up, revealing a spiraling staircase.

A staircase full of guards.

Lenard cried out in shock as a sword sliced across his stomach. He stumbled back and fell heavily to his rear.

"You bastards!" Raynolt roared, as the guards struggled to exit the staircase.

He was beginning to feel fatigued but he brushed that feeling aside. He drew his power in deeply and quickly maneuvered his fingers through the air. He finished the spell in his mind and felt his energy drain as small bolts of lightning fired from each fingertip in multiple waves.

Each bolt shot clean through the guard's armor. Because of the way they were bottlenecked in the staircase, one bolt passed through several guards. Raynolt grimaced and continued to wave his fingers until every last guard was dead.

Exhausted, he collapsed next to Lenard, who was holding the gash in his stomach and panting hard. "Good one," Lenard said. "I've never seen that spell before."

Raynolt groaned as he stretched his muscles. "I've been practicing ever since Reynar chastised me for not inventing spells of my own."

"You showed him," Lenard said, as he rested his head against the wall.

A loud bang echoed down the hallway they occupied. Faint screams could be heard in the silence that followed.

"You have to go," Lenard gasped.

"Then get up," Raynolt said, standing.

"I can't," Lenard replied, showing Raynolt the long gash in his stomach. "I need a medic to even move."

Raynolt frowned down at him. Another loud crash sounded closer to them. "I don't know healing spells," Raynolt admitted.

"Me either," Lenard said, smiling grimly. "Go, I'll be ok."

Raynolt turned his head toward the staircase. He hesitated. "Where should I go?"

Lenard sighed and struggled to keep his eyes open. "Go...find...Sophina and her group. She...can hide you."

"They're probably already dead," Raynolt said, though he highly doubted it.

"Go...before the city...is swarming with guards. Take...the...staircase. It leads...ugh...to the kitchens." Lenard closed his eyes, his head thumping back against the wall.

"Find me, my friend," Raynolt said quietly. Lenard didn't stir.

Raynolt ran down the spiraling steps as fast as he could. In moments, he became dizzy as the staircase spiraled tightly against itself. He passed a dead Magi on the stairs but didn't stop to look.

After several long, exhausting minutes, the staircase finally leveled out. Raynolt tugged open the door and ran into the cavernous kitchen. It was deserted.

What am I going to do? Raynolt asked himself as he passed by several rows of long tables. Cups and plates were set out and food was left half-eaten. He had evidently interrupted the dinner of those Magi who didn't feel like attending the feast at the wedding.

That's why there were only small groups of resistance, Raynolt realized. A large portion of the Magi were either still at the feast or were on the way home.

He ran through another large door and found himself breathing fresh air. The kitchens led out to a small courtyard where Magi could take their meals and enjoy the weather.

Raynolt looked nervously around but didn't see one sign of life. He ran quickly to the wall surrounding the courtyard and stopped. What was that spell that would allow him to climb a smooth surface?

"I thought you would come this way," a voice said from behind him.

Raynolt spun around and winced as a small, stinging pain shot through his arm. Sereph stepped back, a long needle dangling in his fingers.

"What...did..." Raynolt blinked. His vision swam before his eyes and the earth lurched beneath his feet.

He fell to his knees, his ears ringing and his vision darkening. Distantly, as from a long tunnel, he heard Sereph speaking. "It pays to know the general layout of the Emporium, don't you think, Grand Master? I knew which way you would go."

Raynolt collapsed to his side. His whole body was shaking. He tried to talk but his teeth were clenched as muscles spasmed in his jaw.

A shadow stood over him. "A very curious poison, yes? It quickly paralyzes the victim and, at the same time, inflicts searing pain throughout the body. Don't worry, you won't die...yet."

Raynolt's thoughts drifted through his mind like a stick through mud. He was about to die and he couldn't even form coherent thoughts to be afraid.

His vision faded in and out, the world blurring around him. Sereph continued to stand over him, watching in fascination. Raynolt longed to close his eyes but they wouldn't respond to his command.

Something, a shadow perhaps, fell from the sky and landed behind Sereph. Or maybe it wasn't Sereph. Raynolt couldn't tell anymore. The two shadows merged, jerking and twisting.

Raynolt's vision swirled before his eyes and brought him, kicking and punching, down into deep oblivion.

***

Note: Yes, no Jon in this chapter but this chapter took place in a single night, the same night that Jon became Chieftain.

And I promise that I will finish the last 3 chapters as fast as I can! I have most of it planned out and I can't wait to write a few certain scenes...

Chapter 18 - Events start to speed along as Jon struggles to make his way toward the Goddess, Sophina makes a difficult choice, and Raynolt discovers something shocking.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 18



Note: In this chapter, I finally reveal the secret behind the Shadow Dagger. I have been building up to this moment the whole series. I would really like to hear your opinions about the reveal. Have fun reading the chapter!

Ashford leaned against the crumbling clay wall and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

These damn Raves warriors don't know how to give up, do they?

Just as he thought it, a man came running around the corner of the building, brandishing his sword and roaring in defiance. Ashford sighed and pushed himself off the wall. He forced the weariness from his mind and brought his sword up in time to deflect the man's sword from his head.

He felt his magic surge inside of him as he quickly sidestepped the stunned warrior. He plunged his sword into the man's chest and pulled it back out before the man even knew what happened.

"Sorry," Ashford apologized, as the man fell to the ground, dead.

The sound of boots crunching on stone brought Ashford's head up. He nearly sighed in relief as he recognized Jon.

"You're still alive?" Jon chided him.

Ashford sheathed his sword and stretched out his back. "Unfortunately," he moaned, as he felt the muscles tighten painfully in his back.

Jon smiled. "I have good news to cheer you up. We finally cornered him. Come, let's go put an end to this."

"Oh, thank the God," Ashford breathed. "That bastard managed to hold out for...what, seven days?" God, has it only been seven days?

Jon motioned Ashford to walk beside him before speaking. "We knew this would happen," he reminded him.

"I know," Ashford admitted.

Jon raised his eyebrows as he examined the area around him. "Did you kill all of these men?"

Ashford shrugged. "I can never tell how many men I've killed during the heat of battle."

Jon looked at him shrewdly. "Are you still apologizing to them?"

"Yes," Ashford said, wincing at the memories flooding his mind. "It isn't fair, how I fight them. They didn't know what they're going up against."

Jon stopped and put his hand on Ashford's shoulder. "You fight them fairly, my friend. You only use your magic to enhance your speed. They at least have a chance."

"Still," Ashford said, shrugging uncomfortably as they continued walking. "I don't like it. It feels like I'm cheating."

"At least it keeps you alive," Jon offered.

Ashford said nothing. They didn't speak again as they made their way through the crumbling ruins of the desert city that was home to the Tribe of the Desert Coyote. Ashford wished he would've had the chance to visit this city again before the battle broke out.

Shade, as the Coyote tribe named their city, was nestled in the crevice between two towering cliffs. The small mountain in the middle of the desert stretched out for miles in either direction, separating the desert into a lower and upper half. 

The only way to survive the harshness of the desert, where there was enough water and food, was to pass between the two halves of the wall of stone and boulders to reach the upper half.

The Coyote's Chieftain, a man named Ikan, had heard what happened to Sazon, former Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion. He knew he didn't stand a chance in single combat against the man who had defeated Sazon. So instead of meeting Jon in single combat, he forced Jon's tribe to come and get him.

For seven bloody days the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion lay siege to the well-defended city of Shade. The city landscape gradually inclined upwards, effectively dividing the city into layers, like steps on a ladder. 

Ikan's men were very clever; they hid in homes and on rooftops, never daring to attack in full force. Jon had been forced to hunt through the city for Ikan. He was constantly delayed as they had to battle their way onto the next higher layer.

It appears Jon had finally found him.

The men of Jon's new tribe fell in behind them as Ashford and Jon made their way through tight streets clogged with rubble. The structures were made of clay and were easily destroyed in close quarter combat. These people would have to spend many years to rebuild what they had lost.

They turned a corner and arrived at a great square in the middle of the highest layer of the city. The cliffs almost leveled off overhead and provided this area with the least amount shade in the city. Small plants and stunted trees, which grew in abundance in the lower parts of the city, grew only in tight bunches in the parts of the square that were slightly protected from the unrelenting desert sun.

One large building dominated the block. It was made of stone and housed the current Chieftain of the Desert Coyote. It was nothing compared to the majestic buildings in Astuari but, here in the desert, it was luxury. At least, it used to be. Ashford felt his heart sink as he took in the destruction of the scene before his eyes.

The home of the Chieftain was crumbling. Men hung out of windows, their bows held loosely in their hands, and their blood slowly dripping down the walls. Bodies lay everywhere around the square, both of the Scorpion and Coyote. Clearly, this place had been heavily defended.

Chieftain Ikan stood upright in the middle of all the destruction. Blood ran down the side of his face, but he stood, unwavering. His long black hair was braided tightly behind his head and hung down to his belt. Other than the wound on his head, there were no visible scars on his body. The warriors of Raves were measured by the ability to avoid cuts.

Jon stopped several paces away. "Chieftain Ikan," he greeted him, as though they were old friends.

Ikan sneered. "Took you long enough to reach me, Chieftain Jon," he said scornfully.

"Your men fought bravely," Jon said, ignoring the hostility in Ikan's voice. "Though, I must say, was it really necessary to throw away so many lives?"

"To kill you? Yes," Ikan growled. "You're a corruption that was sent here to wipe out all of Raves and to erase the proud history of our people. I will not bow to you, Astuarian dog!"

Ashford couldn't help but be impressed; the man showed absolutely no fear. No matter how many years Ashford spent in Raves, he was still amazed by their ferociousness.

"I'm here to unite your people," Jon said quietly.

Ikan spat, missing Jon by a few feet. "I would rather see my people burn in the nine hells than to see them grovel at the feet of an Astuarian!"

The men around Ashford muttered uncomfortably amongst themselves. They clearly hadn't warmed up entirely to the idea of Jon leading them. Ashford forced himself not to look behind him. Surely, a knife wasn't about to find it's way into his back.

"Chieftain Ikan of the Tribe of the Desert Coyote, I, Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Scorpion, challenge you to the right of leadership of the Tribe of the Desert Coyote."

"To the nine hells with your challenge!" Ikan roared, sprinting toward Jon.

Ashford backpedaled quickly, surprised by Ikan's mad rush. The man didn't even have a weapon on him! The warriors around him roared in anticipation of the battle to come.

If Jon was surprised by Ikan's sudden rush, he didn't show it. Instead, when Ikan's fist was about to smash into his nose, he stepped calmly to the side, grabbed Ikan's arm, turned his hip, and flipped him over.

Ikan somersaulted over Jon's back and was smashed hard into the ground. He let out a grunt of pain and rolled quickly to his feet. Jon let him up and began to slowly circle him. He left his sword sheathed on his hip.

Ikan eyed him uncertainly as he circled. Ashford could tell he hadn't been expecting Jon to react so quickly. A heavy silence descended over the men watching. Even Ashford caught himself holding his breath in anticipation. Was Jon really going to fight him without his sword?

Ikan roared and charged Jon by ducking his head and attempting to launch his shoulder into Jon's stomach. But Jon's legs quickly flew out behind him so that Jon's stomach ended up on top of Ikan's back. Ikan, having anticipated ramming into Jon, suddenly stumbled. 

Jon, his weight fully on top of Ikan, flattened him to the ground. He swiveled around on Ikan's back and sat up. He leaned down and hooked his arm around Ikan's throat.

Ikan's eyes bulged as Jon's iron grip starting choking the air out of him. With a strength that must have come from desperation, Ikan somehow lurched to his knees with Jon still on his back and flipped over, ramming Jon's back into the hard stones.

Jon, however, merely grunted, his hold around Ikan's throat still secure. Ikan flailed wildly, desperately trying to escape Jon's choke hold. Ashford could see the strain in Jon's face as he slowly choked the life out of Ikan.

Ikan's face was turning a dark red as he struggled to roll over. Jon brought his legs up and locked them around Ikan's waist, holding him in place. Ikan tried smashing his head backwards but Jon's chin was raised high enough that Ikan only managed to hit his chest with only a minimal amount of force.

Ikan's flailing attempts to escape slowly abated. His face was nearly purple and spit dribbled from his clenched teeth as the last, rattling breath left his body. Jon held the chokehold for several more moments before shoving Ikan's body aside.

Ashford rushed to him and held out his hand to help him up. "That was amazing," Ashford breathed.

The crowd around them was oddly silent. Ashford looked up and saw not only Scorpion tribesman but Coyote tribesman as well. The Coyote's yellow vests nearly blended in with the buildings around them.

Jon wiped the dust from his clothes as he looked around the crowd. "Does any here challenge my right to lead the men of the Tribe of the Desert Coyote?"

The Scorpion tribesman stepped aside as more Coyote tribesman filtered into the crowd. The men who had been fighting to the death moments ago were standing side by side. Nobody said a word.

Jon nodded. "Then let's go. We have a long way to go yet. Dasan!" he barked suddenly.

A tall, dark warrior in a blue sleeveless vest pushed his way through the crowd and stopped in front of Jon. Ashford eyed him uneasily. Dasan had small, crisscrossing scars on his bare arms. Normally, Raves warriors took great pride in remaining unscarred as they thought it was a measure of prowess on the battlefield.

Dasan, on the other hand, had purposefully scarred his arms. Each scar represented a warrior he killed. For the life of him, Ashford couldn't understand why Jon made him his second-in-command.

"Yes, Chieftain?" Dasan asked.

"Gather all the Coyote warriors and assign ranks. Give me an accurate count of their numbers once you're done. Also, have word spread to our camp that we'll be staying here in this city for the night. We march at first light tomorrow."

"It will be done," Dasan said. He turned and quickly began to bark orders to the men around him.

"That was an impressive fight," Ashford said quietly to Jon. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Jon stared down at Ikan's corpse for several moments before speaking. "A true warrior knows how to fight with any weapon, including his body."

Ashford nodded, unsurprised. "I've never seen a man choked to death like that before."

"The man was as strong as a bull," Jon said, his eyes still staring down at the corpse. "I almost had to use my magic."

"If you kept your eyes closed, nobody would've known," Ashford offered, shrugging.

Jon looked at him sharply. "I would've known," he said sharply. His eyes scanned Ashford's face and showed a hint of disappointment.

Ashford turned from that gaze, not wanting Jon to see the shame in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jon sighed and clapped Ashford on the shoulder. "I will make a warrior out of you yet. You fight very well."

Ashford looked up and saw the slight smile on Jon's face and the twinkle in his eye. Ashford grinned sheepishly. "Thanks."

"But for now, tell me about the Spider tribe. How far is their city?"

"It's a good week's march. Luckily, the city is not nearly as well defended as Shade. It's located out in the open because of the proximity of a nearby bed of underground water. In fact, I think..."

Ashford and Jon made their way into the crumbling house that once was home to Ikan and talked well into the night.

***

Sophina did her best to calm her nerves as she looked around the column of the building. She shrunk back immediately as she spotted a squad of soldiers checking a nearby alley.

"We should kill them," Peron hissed from next to her. He, too, was peering around the corner.

"What, and draw the attention of the army over here?" Sophina hissed back. The soldiers, evidently finding nothing, marched briskly to the next alley and disappeared.

"We can't mount a resistance if we hide like scared jack-rabbits," Peron whispered back. "It's been a week already."

"Patience," Sophina reminded him irritably. "Evelyn still has over two months to go before giving birth. Even then we still don't have to rescue her. We can wait until the intensity of these searches die down."

"Do you really think so?" Peron asked, surprised. "Look at the situation closely. Reynar has recalled almost all of his soldiers from across the country. He even seems to be withdrawing them from the hunt for Magi Victus. Why?"

Sophina frowned. Peron did have a point. Why would Reynar beggar the country's defense to guard the city for the God knew how long?

"It's almost as if he's anticipating something," Sophina said slowly, looking over at Peron.

Peron nodded. "Think about it; we don't necessarily have to rescue Evelyn before she gives birth. As long as we eventually get her away and dispose of Reynar, then that's ok."

Sophina shook her head. How could she have been so blind? I finally explain the entire situation to Peron and he already sees something I've missed! I can see why he is so feared by his enemies.

Peron was a mystery to her. When she told him about True-born Magi and what Evelyn is carrying, he simply shrugged his shoulders and said Astuarians were capable of anything. The truth about the history of the Magi didn't even shock him!

"It's almost as though Reynar is just waiting for Evelyn to give birth," Sophia whispered. "Why? What's his end game? Doesn't he want to keep Evelyn and the child?"

Peron shook his head. "I don't know. Reynar is a great man and whatever he has planned, we probably won't know what it is until it happens."

Another squad of soldiers emerged from a nearby alley. Sophina stepped back into the shadows of the ruined building that Jon called home. "Let's get back inside. They're coming this way."

She quickly opened the secret entrance and descended down the stairs. She heard the entrance shut and the sound of Peron's footsteps behind her.

A fire was cracking merrily in the living room. Sophina hesitated for a moment before realizing that Marcus was not in the room. She let out a relieved breath.

"What are we going to do about him?" Peron asked quietly as he perched on the edge of a chair near the fire. He, too, seemed relieved that Marcus wasn't here.

"Not much we can do," Sophina admitted. "I bring him his medicine as often as I can. He seems ok now."

Peron looked over at her and for once his face was serious. "That man is like the desert spider. It lies perfectly still, blending with its surroundings. If you walk too close to it, it springs forward and bites you. You're dead inside of a minute. I don't know about you, but I don't want to walk too close to Marcus.

"Jon trusts him and we have to have faith in that," Sophina said. Her voice sounded uncertain even to her own ears.

Peron snorted. "Jon Laurent," he said slowly, as though testing a name he had never heard before. "I would like to meet the man who managed to capture your heart."

Sophina was glad that Peron's back was to her or he would've seen the blush creep up her face. "It's not like that," she said, and immediately regretted it.

She could almost hear the smirk in Peron's voice when he spoke. "Yeah, right. Still, I would like to meet him one day. When will he get back?"

Sophina walked over to the fire and stared into it's depths. "I don't know. I'm hoping it's soon."

"Any news about our Magi friends?" Peron asked. Sophina had snuck into the city to gather news earlier in the day.

"Raynolt is still unconscious. The Magi who were loyal to him are camped out in their hiding place. The battle at the Emporium was devastating, apparently. Over a hundred soldiers were killed as well as twenty Magi."

"How many Magi do we have on our side now?"

Sophina sighed and turned away from the fire. "Sanje counts seventy five. Reynar has over three hundred still loyal to him. We're in deep, now."

"And my men are still stuck outside these damn city walls," Peron said, punching his thigh. "I don't know how we're going to pull this off."

Sophina said nothing. What could she say? She harbored a deep fear that Peron was right. They really needed Jon back and soon.

Peron sighed and stood up. "Ok, it's time to go give Marcus his next dose."

"I'll do it," she said.

Peron hesitated. "You sure?"

Yes, Sophina, why do you always volunteer to go see him? Can it have anything to do with the fact that he looks almost just like Jon?

Shaking her head, she grabbed the pot of water hanging over the fireplace and quickly dumped the drug into it. She watched it dissolve before she carefully poured it into a cup.

"Wish me luck," she said.

Peron looked as though he would stop her but instead just shook his head. "Good luck. I will keep watch outside the door, just in case."

Sophina felt her heart racing as she walked down the stone hallway. It happened every time she came to see him. She stopped at the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

"Marcus?"

Marcus was sitting in a chair next to the bed and was staring blankly into space. At the sound of her voice, his eyes focused on her with such sudden intensity that Sophina nearly bolted from the room.

"That time already?" he asked.

Sophina let out a shaky breath. He was coherent today. "Yes, I'm afraid so. How are you?"

Marcus stared down at his hands. He looked horrible. He hadn't shaved since a week ago when he nearly killed her. Coarse brown hair covered his jaw and lessened his resemblance to Jon.

"Here," Sophina said gently, holding out the cup to him.

"Thanks," Marcus mumbled. He held the cup in his hands and didn't drink.

Sophina looked around hesitantly and decided to sit on the edge of the bed next to Marcus. "I hope you don't blame yourself for what happened."

Marcus looked up, his gaze as sharp as the edge of a knife. "Who's fault is it then?" he asked bitterly.

Sophina didn't know what to say. She was never very good at talking with people. "I made you use too much magic," she finally said.

Marcus looked back down at the cup in his hands. "That's just an excuse, Sophina. I have nobody to blame but myself. I know how dangerous I am but I still decided to accompany you."

"You promised Jon you would."

"And Jon knows what's best for me?" he snapped, raising his head angrily. "What can he possibly know what it's like to be me? I've tried to warn him so many times. He just won't listen. He has too much faith in me."

"So what would you have him do?" Sophina said, her own temper starting to boil.

"I would have him leave me alone!" Marcus roared. For a moment, something golden flashed in his eyes. "I was comfortable being the prophetic beggar! I wasn't a danger to anybody!"

He looked down at his cup, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Sophia stared at him, filled with a combination of pity and regret. "So that's why you chose to live as a beggar," she said quietly.

Marcus didn't look up. All the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders sagged in defeat. "I wasn't a danger to anybody," he repeated, as though he was trying to convince himself.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 18



"I need you," Sophina said. A voice in the back of her mind was yelling at her to stop but she ignored it. "We can't do this without you."

Marcus was silent for several long moments. The cup was all but forgotten in his hands. "You would think I wouldn't fear death," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm a True-born, why would I fear death?"

"Everybody fears death," Sophina said gently. Something in his voice was breaking her heart.

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not human; how can I fear death? Do you know what leading researchers said about the True-born when we started to rampage? They studied the ones who weren't yet mad and concluded we don't have souls."

"What?" Sophina asked angrily. "How can they say that!"

"I always thought they were right," Marcus said, shaking his head. "I never felt the things other people said they felt. That would explain why we decided to destroy everything. We simply didn't care."

"I refuse to believe that," Sophina said, standing up. "You have a soul, Marcus."

"Is that why I fear death?" Marcus said, looking up at her. His eyes looked lost and confused. "I started thinking, if I fear death, does that mean I have a soul?"

"Do you think you're going to die, Marcus?" Sophina said, as she sat back down on the bed.

"I don't know. The God said he could give my life a purpose if I were to become his Oracle. I've always had the dreams since I was a child but he gave me focus and a purpose so that I could make sense of them."

"What purpose was that?"

Marcus ran his thumb around the edge of his cup and didn't speak for a while. "We still have a chance to win this," he said finally. "If I truly have a soul, we have a chance. It's something I tried not to think about over the years, as I hoped it would never be needed. But I'm scared. What if I don't have a soul?"

"You do," Sophina said. She reached over and squeezed his hand. "I don't know what you mean, but if it depends on you having a soul, then we'll be ok."

Marcus looked over at her and smiled. "Thanks, Sophina. I need to be alone for a while. I have a lot to think about."

"Sure," Sophina said, standing up. She walked to the door and thought about what Marcus had just said. Was he worried that without a soul he couldn't fight off the madness? If having a soul would help fight that off, then they really would have a chance. Marcus could lay waste to the entire city if he chose to.

It wasn't until she shut the door that she realized Marcus didn't drink the medicine. She turned back and stopped. If Jon had faith in him, then so would she. Marcus would do what was right.

Oh God, Jon, hurry back already!

***

Sanje idly cleaned his fingernails with his Shadow Dagger as he sat watching Raynolt's unconscious body. Once again, as he had for the past week, he contemplated simply shoving his dagger into Raynolt's chest and chalking it up as a win.

It wasn't the plan that stopped him. My father...I feel nothing for him. He never once cared about me. He only used me to get inside the Magi Victus. So why can't I kill him?

The flood of childhood memories attempted to sweep him away. He was more than use to blocking those off. His childhood and his eventual introduction into the Magi Victus were so far past that he barely remembered it.

He just wished he had known his mother. It was an idle thought, one he occasionally allowed himself. Raynolt had purposefully impregnated a non-Magi woman just so he could infiltrate the Magi Victus.

Sanje's happiest memory was the day he had defied Raynolt. He had agreed to the plan, of course, but the secrets of the Magi Victus stayed with him. He smiled as he remembered Raynolt's anger. Raynolt appeared ready to kill him but Sanje knew he still needed him.

His thoughts were interrupted as Raynolt suddenly twitched from his cot on the floor. His eyes fluttered for a few seconds before slowly opening.

"You just won't die, will you?" Sanje said.

Raynolt blinked. "What...where..." His voice was hoarse.

Sanje grabbed the leather water bottle next to him and put it into Raynolt's hand. "Drink."

Raynolt finally opened the water bottle on his third try and lifted it to his mouth with shaking hands. Sanje smirked as most of the water poured down the sides of Raynolt's mouth.

Raynolt's head collapsed back to the cot as if it weighed a ton. "Where am I?" he gasped, his voice less raspy than before.

"In a safe place," Sanje said vaguely.

Raynolt closed his eyes and sighed. "What happened? I thought I was dead for sure."

"I saved your life," Sanje said, as if it was of no importance.

"That was you?" Raynolt asked. His eyes fluttered open and located Sanje. "I thought I saw somebody drop down behind Sereph. Did you kill that little bastard?"

"Not quite," Sanje said. The memory still irritated him. "That man was more resourceful than I anticipated. I drove him off, though. You were convulsing from the poison Sereph gave you."

"Poison," Raynolt muttered. He raised his shaky hands and rubbed his face. "That little bastard. What poison was it?"

"It was a concoction made mostly from the venom of a scorpion most commonly found in Raves. Lucky for you, my work as an assassin requires me to know the various poisons and their antidotes. By the time I got you back here and administered the antidote I thought you were dead. You've been unconscious for a week."

Raynolt struggled for several minutes before finally sitting up. "A week? What's been happening since I've been unconscious?"

"The Emporium sustained a lot of damage but it still stands. Reynar's Magi control it now. They elected a woman named Sura to replace you as Grand Master."

"Damn that woman," Raynolt muttered. He looked up and seemed to finally notice the dank walls surrounding him. "Where in the nine hells am I?"

"The sewers," Sanje said, smirking.

A look of great distaste cross Raynolt's face. "Lovely."

"It's the only safe place to hide," Sanje said, shrugging.

"My loyal Magi are here as well?"

"What's left of them," Sanje replied. "We have around seventy five Magi compared to Reynar's three hundred."

"What of Lenard?" Raynolt asked.

"We never found him. Some of your Magi are out looking for him at the moment. As well as doing other tasks."

"What do you mean, out?" Raynolt asked, frowning.

Sanje sighed. "We can't just stay idly in the sewers. If Reynar's men never found us, they would have to conclude that we're hiding here. A few select Magi are running through the city and getting into fights. That way, Reynar's men think we're still up in the city, hiding."

Raynolt dropped his head in his hands. "My plans are ruined. How the hell did Reynar catch wind of our plans?"

"There's a few possibilities," Sanje said slowly. "Either one of your men or one of Sophina's men talked."

Raynolt looked up sharply. "I noticed you didn't include your men in that."

"Not a possibility," Sanje said, his voice daring Raynolt to disagree.

Raynolt snorted. "Have it your way. I suppose a hunt for the spy is pointless at this juncture. The spy probably switched sides already."

"Probably."

Raynolt looked around the room, apparently looking for something to say. "What's the plan now?"

"Am I in charge now?" Sanje said, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"I've been unconscious for a week," Raynolt said, irritably. "I hope you haven't been sitting on your ass for all that time."

"Hardly," Sanje sneered. "I've met up with Sophina. We can still coordinate something. We just need to figure out how to get everyone together and find out what's the biggest weakness in Reynar's armor."

"I see a lot of problems with that," Raynolt said dryly.

"There's a few. First, while your were napping, Reynar called all of the army back to the city. We currently have over three thousand soldiers patrolling the city and guarding the palace and city walls."

Raynolt shook his head and said nothing. Sanje continued. "Secondly, we need to figure out a way to sneak in Peron's mercenary army. After that, we have to figure out the best method of attacking the palace. After that, we have to figure out how the hell we kill Reynar. Other than that, it should be a piece of cake."

"Funny," Raynolt spat. "I fail to see the humor in this. After all these years we've spent planning, our plans lie in near ruin. The Magi Victus will fall and I with them."

"Did anyone ever tell you," Sanje said, turning toward the door, "what a complainer you are?"

Sanje heard Raynolt growl under his breath. Smirking, Sanje whistled happily as he splashed through the sewer. 

When he came to an intersecting tunnel, one of his men moved out of the shadows cast by a flickering torch and walked quickly toward him.

"Master Victus," he greeted Sanje, bowing.

"What is it?" Sanje asked, feeling his good mood evaporating.

"It's Merrion," the man said simply.

Sanje sucked in his breath. "Is it time?" he asked quickly.

The man nodded. "Heric just brought the woman down. It looks like it will happen any minute now."

Sanje cursed and took off running down the tunnel. Since he became Master Victus, he swore an oath to himself that he would always witness the most sacred and significant event of every Magi Victus' life.

He would never miss the making of a new Shadow Dagger.

***

"Where do you think you're taking him?" Jocelyn asked, one eyebrow raised scornfully.

Jon felt Mathus' hand shiver nervously on his arm. Ignoring the pain in his back as best as he could, Jon pushed Mathus away and straightened up. 

"Hello...Jocelyn," he gasped. The drug continued to blur his vision and his back continued to throb waves of pain.

Jocelyn cocked her head to the side, a slight smile twisting her handsome features into something sinister. 

"Look at you, Jon. A once great warrior struggling to stay on his feet." She shook her head sadly. "You could've been so much more...but you spat in my face."

"Watch your tongue, witch!" Mathus growled, stepping in front of Jon. Jon tried to push him away but his arms wouldn't respond.

Jocelyn's face tightened in anger. "This is between adults, child. I suggest you shut your mouth."

Mathus raised his hand. Runes began to glow in front of him. "Mathus...no..." Jon croaked. Black dots swam across his vision.

Jocelyn laughed. "Is this child trying to threaten me? Me?" Jocelyn's voice went as hard as steel on the last word. "Me, the daughter of a goddess?"

"A goddess?" Jon asked, his rising anger granting him temporary strength. "Is that what you think you are?"

Jocelyn's eyes narrowed. Mathus continued to hold his hand out, his runes flashing dangerously in the air. 

"You've never understood that, Jon," Jocelyn hissed. "Our parents are gone. The Order of 12 are gone. We are the gods now, not these weak children like the one I see before me. I will never bend my knee to them, Jon. Never."

Mathus' hand tightened but Jon grabbed his arm, stopping him. "How did I not see what you truly were from the beginning?"

Jon could see he had hurt her with that. Murderous rage shone from her eyes. "Maybe because you could never see past that bitch of yours," she spat. "You spurned me and look what happened. She betrayed you! Betrayed you like I would've never done!"

"I would've never loved a power-hungry, soulless bitch like you," Jon said.

Jocelyn's eyes flashed silver. She screamed dementedly and flung her hand out. Mathus swung his arm and runes flashed on the ceiling. Several tons of stone came crashing down between them.

"Move!" Jon cried, grabbing Mathus' arm.

Mathus put Jon's arm around his shoulders and quickly dragged him down a side hallway. They could hear more demented screams and crashing rocks.

"She's coming!" Mathus said, fear creeping into his voice for the first time.

"Leave...me," Jon gasped, his strength once again ebbing under the influence of pain and drugs. "I will hold...her off...give you...time to escape."

"She will not have you!" Marcus said angrily. He shouldered a door open and shoved Jon inside. He shut the door behind him.

They were in a private room, it's occupants evidently fleeing the destruction. Mathus led Jon to a chair and gently set him down.

"Listen, father, I have something--"

"I know where you are Jon!" Jocelyn laughed, her voice muffled by the closed door. "You can't hide from me! I need to finish the work of art I started on your back!"

"That bitch," Mathus growled, his head swinging toward the door. "We don't have much time."

"Leave," Jon repeated. He couldn't bear the thought of watching his son die. He knew that's exactly what Jocelyn would make him witness. If only he had his strength back.

"I told you, father, it's too late. I was trying to tell you earlier. I know my destiny now. Jocelyn taunted me with the knowledge she found out from you."

"What do...you mean?" Jon asked. He felt his heart flutter in his chest.

Mathus looked fiercely into Jon's eyes. "I know about your Shadow Dagger. I know how it's suppose to work. Yours is different, more powerful than the rest. And I know why...and I'm ready."

Jon felt his world slip away from him as Mathus removed something from behind his belt. It was covered in black cloth. Mathus' hands shook as he slowly unwrapped it. Jon wanted to look away, wanted to die, but he knew he was powerless to stop it.

Jon's unfinished Shadow Dagger lay in Mathus' hands. The runes didn't shine silver; they were merely marks chiseled into the dark metal. Lifeless.

Mathus looked up, his eyes meeting Jon's. There was no fear in them. "I'm ready," he said, quietly, reverently.

"NOOO!" Jon roared.

"Jon! What is it? What's wrong?"

Jon sat, his chest heaving rapidly, as he realized it was just a nightmare. No, not a nightmare; a memory more nightmarish than anything found in the nine hells.

"What is it?" Ashford called urgently as he ran into the room.

Jon rubbed his face. "It's nothing...a nightmare," he said, feeling distinctly embarrassed.

Ashford stopped in his tracks. "Oh, thank the God," he breathed. "I thought it was an assassin."

"Did anybody else hear?" Jon asked, looking around the small bedroom.

Ashford shook his head. "No, the men are outside feasting. I just happened to come by to see if you needed anything."

Jon swung his feet over the bed and tried his best to forget about that nightmare. If he closed his eyes, he could probably still see Mathus' face. He never wanted to remember that night.

"Jon, is everything alright?" Ashford asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Jon sighed. "You know I've been having these nightmares lately."

"You need to talk about them, Jon," Ashford said, his eyes searching Jon's face for a reaction. "These memories of yours are eating you up inside. You need to let them out."

Jon grabbed his shirt from the bedpost and slipped it on. He dressed slowly to give himself time to think.

"Jon," Ashford said, once Jon fell silent.

Jon felt something inside him break at the moment. Ashford was right; it was time to trust somebody. It was what Sarah wanted. He was starting to think that's why she and Berrick had haunted his dreams.

"I need to tell you something first before I tell you about this memory."

Jon could see the eagerness in Ashford's face, though he tried his best to hide it. "What?"

Jon walked to the bag he had packed in Astuari and rummaged inside of it. He felt what he was looking for. He turned toward Ashford and held up his Shadow Dagger.

Ashford hissed. "Be careful! Somebody could walk in here and see that!"

"It's necessary," Jon said, staring down at his dagger. The memory tugged at the corners of his mind. He didn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

"Why? What were you going to tell me?"

"I need to tell you a secret I have guarded for too many years before I tell you about my memory. I think I'm suppose to. No...I know suppose to. This knowledge may hold the key to our salvation."

"What knowledge?" Ashford asked nervously.

Jon held up the Shadow Dagger to his face. He looked past it and met Ashford's eyes. "I need to tell you the secret of the Shadow Dagger."

***

Sanje hurried up the metal ladder and pushed up the trapdoor. He hoisted himself out and set the trapdoor back in place. The building he found himself in was dark and abandoned. He didn't need to see, though. He had been here many times before.

He made his way through the dark and quickly found the door leading out. He squinted his eyes as the expected light nearly blinded him as he walked out. The hallway was well lit with torches.

"Master Victus," Waller said, greeting him with a bow.

"Where is he?" Sanje asked Waller. Waller guarded the entrance into this building and would know exactly who Sanje was asking about.

"He's already in the room," Waller said, his voice quiet and serious.

Sanje nodded and took off at a brisk trot. He still had time. He passed more Magi Victus as he made his way through one of their many secret hideouts. This place, however, held a certain honor.

This was where Magi Victus were bone.

He turned a corner and found the door he was looking for. He pulled it open and stepped inside.

Lauden stepped forward and greeted him with a bow. "Master Victus, you're just in time."

Sanje patted Lauden on the shoulder and stepped past him. A man with short brown hair was walking nervously back and forth in front of a closed, solid wooden door. Sanje couldn't help but remember how he had felt at this exact moment. The fear, the excitement, the longing...

"Calm yourself, Merrion," Sanje said soothingly. He grabbed the man by the arms and held him still.

Merrion looked up at him with wide eyes. "I can't do this," he whispered.

Sanje smiled. "Everybody who has stood here has said the same thing. Right, Lauden?"

"I was nearly pissing my pants," Lauden said, his voice full of amusement and wistfulness.

Merrion laughed nervously. "Really?"

"Yes," Sanje said, with as much conviction as he could muster. "It's the sacrifice we all must pay just to be who we are. You've spent years preparing for this moment. Remember everything we've taught you."

Merrion nodded and let out a shaky breath. "Ok, you're right. I can do this."

"Remember," Sanje said, pulling up Merrion's head so he could look into his eyes. "The faster you do it, the better. Wait too long and you will lose your nerve. Just close your eyes and trust your heart."

Merrion's eyes glistened but no tears fell down his cheek. "I've never seen it before. It sounds so terrifying. Will I be ok?"

Sanje hugged the man to his shoulder so he wouldn't see the lie in his eyes. "Yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You'll be fine."

Just then, the heavy wooden door swung open. A giant Magi Victus, his face covered in a thick black beard, poked his head out of the door. "She's almost ready to burst," he said simply.

Sanje pushed Merrion to the door. "Go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

Merrion stumbled drunkenly toward the door. Sanje felt a pain in his heart at how lost and helpless he looked. The giant, Heric by name, grabbed Merrion gently by the arm and pulled him into the room.

Lauden stepped up next to Sanje and watched as the door swung shut behind them. "You don't have to do this," he said.

Sanje shook his head. "I have to. I made a promise to witness this, to be reminded of the sacrifice we must make just to survive. It's my duty as Master Victus."

"I've known two Master Victus' before you and neither one of them ever watched this."

"I'm not them," Sanje said, stepping toward the door and grabbing the handle. He turned his head back to look at Lauden. "I'm better than them."

He opened the door and shut it firmly behind him. As soon as he did, noise assaulted his ears.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 18



A woman was lying on top of a black stone table. She had her legs spread with her skirt bunched around her waist. Her head was thrown back and she was screaming.

She was giving birth.

Merrion was standing between her legs, looking completely lost. "What do I do?" he asked hysterically.

Heric was wiping the woman's forehead with a calm patience that made it plain he had done this many times before. "When you see the baby crown, just hold it and help guide it out. She will do all the pushing."

"I can't do this!" he cried.

Sanje walked to him and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "I'm here. I'll help."

Merrion almost sagged in relief. "Thanks, Master Victus."

Sanje squeezed his shoulder once and walked around the stone table. He grabbed the woman's hand and squeezed it. She turned her face toward him. She was red and slick with sweat.

"What's your name, child?" Sanje asked softly.

Despite her exertions, she managed a smile. "Child? I think I'm older than you," she wheezed.

Sanje almost forgot that he wasn't wearing his cloak. He rarely let his face be seen, as was necessary when one worked as an assassin. "Right you are. So what do I call you?"

She moaned suddenly, her teeth clenching and her hand almost crushing Sanje's. "Just push," Heric told her, his voice eternally calm and patient.

She collapsed back to the table. "Selene," she gasped.

Sanje squatted down to be on eye level with her. "Selene, that's a nice name." He squeezed her hand again and tried his best to keep the pain out of his voice. "Do you know what happens next?"

She turned to look at him, her face suddenly relaxed and calm, despite the redness. "I made this decision of my own free will. I know the stakes. My family will be taken care of, right?" Her voice cracked on the last part.

Sanje closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "They will never want for anything again."

"Then I will fulfill my bargain," she said, with quiet conviction. She gave another mighty push and screamed.

"I...I see something!" Merrion yelled. "What...what do I do?"

Sanje stepped up beside him. "Put your hands out. When she pushes, help guide the child out."

Merrion ducked between her legs and put shaky hands toward the crowning child.

"Push," Heric said. "One more big push."

Selene sat up suddenly and screamed louder than she had before. Her face was redder than the setting sun as she gave her biggest push yet.

"Oh dear God!" Merrion cried out.

His hands were dripping with blood.

***

"It's a heavy price we pay," Jon said heavily.

Jon and Ashford were sitting on the floor facing each other. Jon set his Shadow Dagger down on the ground between them. He had never seen Ashford look so eager as he leaned in to look at it.

"I've never seen one up close," he whispered in awe. He leaned in closer. "The runes are so intricate."

"They're designed to hold in great magical energies. See the first rune near the hilt?"

Ashford leaned in even closer and nodded. "That represents a level of power," Jon explained. "That rune can't absorb anything more than a spell of the 1st Tier."

"I'm familiar with that," Ashford said, nodding. "Magi Victus have different levels on power on their Shadow Daggers. I never understood why that is."

"I will explain that in a moment. But first, notice how there are ten runes. This forms the basis of how the Magi are organized."

Ashford looked up at Jon in amazement. "Are you saying the Magi organized themselves into ten tiers because of the Magi Victus?"

"The Magi have based much of their structure because of us," Jon replied. "It was a way to measure their power. They knew just how powerful a spell had to be to overcome a particular rune on a Shadow Dagger."

"I heard yours is the only one that stops 10th Tier spells," Ashford said. "Magi were scared to death of you."

"My dagger is different," Jon said quietly.

I love you, Mathus...

Jon shook his head. He couldn't dwell on his pain. He needed to get through this. Ashford looked at him, his head cocked in confusion. "Why is yours different?"

"Have you ever wondered why all Magi Victus are male?" Jon asked instead.

Ashford blinked. "They are?"

"Have you ever seen or heard of a female Magi Victus?"

Ashford frowned, his forehead burrowed in deep thought. "No," he said finally, as though he couldn't believe the words he was speaking. "I never even thought about that. I've never heard of a female Magi Victus." He shook his head in wonder.

"Do you remember how I told you that the Magi Victus were cursed?"

"Of course," Ashford replied. "You said that ten Magi of your generation came together and sought to alter the fabric of reality. They wanted to make it so that a child wouldn't be born of a non-Magi and Magi union."

The thought still made Jon's blood boil. The arrogance! I wish I could kill them all over again! 

"Yes, in their foolishness and pride, they sought to alter what the God had created. They were like children, waving a sword and thinking it was a toy. Their experiment had unintended consequences."

"They created the Magi Victus," Ashford said. "They created that which would be their ultimate destruction. It serves them right," he finished fiercely.

"Yes, but the spell worked well enough for their purposes. The children of those unions could not actively use magic. They were comfortable with the result."

"So why are all Magi Victus male?" Ashford asked.

"Most likely, it was probably how they worded the spell and how they altered the runes of creation," Jon replied. "My guess is that they ended up altering reality by saying something like 'The sons of a Magi and non-Magi union shall never use magic.' Our society was very male-oriented back then. They probably never even realized their mistake."

"They had no idea what they were doing," Ashford said, shaking his head in disgust.

"They thought too much of themselves," Jon said bitterly. He could still hear Jocelyn proclaiming herself as a goddess.

"And so the Magi Victus can't use magic," Ashford continued for him. "But at least they can alter the magic already in them. I bet they never anticipated that."

"That's where the story begins," Jon said, pointing down at his Shadow Dagger. "The Magi Victus couldn't access their magic. At all."

"At all?" Ashford asked, slowly. "I don't understand."

Jon stared down at his dagger and summoned up the courage necessary to finally finish the story. 

I hope you're right, Sarah. I hope this knowledge helps.

"The Magi Victus were completely cut off from their magic. They couldn't even use it to manipulate their speed as they do now."

"But..." Ashford said, running his hand over the stubble on his head. "How can they do that now?"

"Because of the Shadow Dagger." Jon took a deep breath. One more sentence and there would be no turning back. His Shadow Dagger loomed large in his vision. He stared down at it and felt the large wound on his heart start to bleed.

"Because it contains a part of their soul."

***

"Oh dear God!" Merrion called out. "There's so much blood! What's wrong? Somebody help me!"

Sanje closed his heart to Merrion's pain. It was necessary. If only he could believe it.

"It's ok," Sanje told him. He stood by him. "Just get ready."

"But she's bleeding so much!" he screamed. He was shaking violently.

"Here it comes!" Sanje said, hoping to distract him. "Remember what you have to do! For the love you bore his mother, don't hesitate!"

Selene screamed one last time and fell back against the table. She was as white as new fallen snow.

She was dead.

A terrible sound filled the room. A sound so terrible that Sanje turned away, hiding his tears as the sound tore at his heart.

The sound of a child crying.

Silver light filled the room. Sanje opened his eyes and squinted. Merrion held in his hands a ball of silver light.

"He cries like the thunder!" Merrion screamed, a scream torn from the depths of his soul. "He burns like the sun! Oh God! My son!"

"Do it!" Sanje screamed, his voice barely rising over the wailing of the child. He could dimly see the outline of the baby in the middle of the silver light. He could see the umbilical cord still stretching to his dead mother.

Merrion cried out as he held the child in one hand and reached to his side and unsheathed the Shadow Dagger that had been hanging there.

Sanje could hear the giant Heric weeping as they watched. Merrion was openly sobbing, his shoulders shaking in great heaves. He raised his dagger in the air and stopped.

"Don't hesitate! Just do it!" Sanje screamed, as the baby cried even louder, making his ears bleed.

"I can't! It's my son! My son!"

"The child is dead, regardless! End it now! Don't let it suffer!"

"AAAAAHHHHH!" Merrion screamed. The sound would had made the God weep. The dagger hung poised in the air.

Sanje noticed the light in the room dimming. He could see the child more clearly now, see the cracks in it's flesh leaking silver light. There wasn't much time left.

"Remember what you were taught! Do it! DO IT!"

Merrion screamed one last time; the scream of a soul tearing to pieces. The knife plunged down. Sanje looked away.

And the silver light vanished.

When Sanje turned back around, Merrion was kneeling, his shoulders shaking with grief beyond measure. He still held his hands out, as if they held something. 

But only the Shadow Dagger was in his hands. It glowed up to the 6th rune. Merrion had waited too long, too much power had leaked away before he ended it. That the body was pure energy and, therefore was absorbed, was a small mercy.

Having a powerful Shadow Dagger wasn't a point of pride among the Magi Victus. Sanje felt almost ashamed to have a 9th Tier dagger. Was he so cold-hearted as to not waste time to plunge his dagger into the chest of his child? His own soul?"

Sanje patted Merrion and then quietly left him to his grief. Sanje went somewhere private to give into his.

***

"A child?" Ashford asked. He looked like he had just been punched in the stomach. His face was white. "A Magi Victus has to kill their own son?"

Jon felt a heavy weight sink down into his stomach. He felt sick just to tell Ashford the details. 

"It's not really their son," Jon said, though he didn't offer it as a defense. "It's a portion of their own soul made manifest. It's another unintended part of the curse."

"How does that possibly allow them to use their magic?" Ashford looked angry, really angry.

"The Shadow Dagger is a link. Or maybe I should say a conduit. It's the perfect metal to absorb the power of a soul. Because of the unintended consequences of the curse, a Magi Victus is able to impregnate a woman just once." 

"What really happens is they combine a part of their soul with organic material. The result is a 'baby' that holds the part of their soul that contains their magic. If they don't take action quickly, the power will quickly fade."

Ashford shook his head. "That's too much information for me to process! A conduit? A child of energy? I just don't get it."

"You will...in time," Jon said gently. "It takes time to fully understand it."

"What is the Shadow Dagger?" Ashford asked. He was clearly trying to hang on to any piece of information he could understand. "What do you mean that it's the perfect metal?"

"Well, you know how Magi can create powerful objects by investing it with their life energy?"

"Like the Magi swords you have," Ashford said. "Is that the same thing?"

"It's related, but not quite the same thing," Jon replied. "A Magi has to give his life to invest the object with power. And they use steel or iron, which are poor conduits of magical energy. Imagine how powerful Sophina's sword would be if it was made from the same metal as a Shadow Dagger."

"Well, where the hell did that metal come from?"

"From a far distance land," Jon said evasively. "I traveled far after receiving the summons from the God. I returned years later with a large mound of earth that the Shadow Dagger is made from. That was part of my orders."

"A far distance land," Ashford repeated. "Where they have magical dirt it seems."

"You no idea," Jon said. "The wonders you would find there..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter; what matters is the Shadow Dagger. Now you know everything."

"Not everything," Ashford said, casting Jon a stern look. "I still don't know why your dagger is special or what memory haunts your dream."

Jon sighed. "I guess I did promise that. The memory deals with my son."

***

Mathus looked up, his eyes meeting Jon's. There was no fear in them. "I'm ready," he said, quietly, reverently.

"No!" Jon roared. The pain left his back and his vision cleared as anger filled his veins. "Never this! Never!"

"It has to be done, father. I know the God commanded it. I can help you in death in a way I couldn't in life."

Jon hands shot up and grabbed Mathus' face. "You will not ask this of me! The God and the world can burn for all I care!"

Mathus looked into Jon's eyes without flinching. Tears swam in his eyes and he smiled. "Thank you, for saying that. It...meant a lot to me."

Jocelyn's voice boomed nearby. She was getting closer. "Come out, come out, oh brave warrior! Won't you face me, Jon? Or are you hiding behind your weakling son?"

Mathus forced the Shadow Dagger into Jon's weak and shaky hand. "There's no time to lose, father! Take my life and it will heal your wounds! Kill that bitch and make this world a better place!"

"I would rather die!" Jon said fiercely.

Marcus closed his eyes. Tears leaked out from his eyelids and snaked slowly down his cheek. "Father, either way I'm dead. This way, you have a chance to live. And I will live on, always a part of you. I will protect you from harm as long as you wield the dagger. Please, father, please..."

Jon looked down at the dagger in his hand. He could barely see it through the blur of tears in his eyes. "I can't," he whispered.

The door boomed on it's hinges. Jocelyn was here. The sound of splintering wood filled the room as Mathus' fist closed tight around Jon's hand.

"I'm sorry about Mother." Mathus' voice quivered like a child's.

"Oh, son, that wasn't your fault," Jon said, choking on a sob in his throat. The door burst inward, showering wood over the room.

"I love you," Mathus said, as he leaned his forehead against Jon's.

Jon didn't stop him as Mathus jerked Jon's hand toward his chest. The dagger slid into his chest and straight into his heart. In some ways, the important ways, it slid straight into Jon's heart as well.

Silver light flooded the room. Jocelyn's surprised voice could be heard reverberating from the walls. Jon kept his eyes closed as he felt the energy surge into the Shadow Dagger.

His son, a fully trained and powerful Magi, whose blood ran through Jon's veins, collapsed against his chest as the silver light slowly faded from the room. Jon carefully slid the dagger out of his son's chest, not even caring that the runes on the dagger glowed all the way to the tip.

"What...what is this? What's happening?" For once, fear was plain in Jocelyn's voice.

Jon stood up. The pain was gone from his back. His vision was no longer clouded. Power he had never felt before coursed through his veins. The silver glow faded from the dagger in his hands.

But it only continued to glow brighter in his eyes. The same terrible eyes that turned to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn backpedaled until she bumped against the wall. "Jon? I...what just happened?"

Jon said nothing. He just continued to stare at her, his eyes blazing in fury and grief. "Jocelyn," he rasped, and in his voice trembled the power of the God.

***

Ashford held back a sob as Jon trailed away. He rubbed quickly at his eyes while Jon was staring at the floor. 

"Well, what did you do to her?"

"I let her live," Jon said bitterly.

Ashford gasped. "What? Why?"

Jon waved his hand. "Foolish reasons. She was the last, Ashford. The last of my generation. The last person who knew my wife and my son. If I killed her, I would be the only one who remembered them. Would they have truly existed then?"

"Jon..." Ashford said, not knowing what to say.

"I know it was foolish. And I may come to regret it. But it came so soon on the heels of my son's death. I just couldn't do it, no matter how vengeful I felt at the moment. So I told her to leave the country and never return. If she did, I would kill her slowly and painfully. She knew I wasn't bluffing. I never saw her again."

"I know now why you kept all this a secret," Ashford said, hoping it would offer him some comfort.

"Thanks," Jon said. He glanced down at his Shadow Dagger and spun it around idly.

"Jon, if you don't mind me asking, what happened with your Shadow Dagger? It wasn't your own soul."

Jon nodded. "I don't completely understand it myself. My guess is that Mathus was my son and shared my blood. I think I'm right because I don't fully have a link with it."

"What do you mean? Aren't all Magi Victus linked with their dagger?"

"Yes. Because of the curse, not even the dagger allows them full access to their magic. But it allows them to manipulate magic within their own bodies. They just can't use it externally. As long as they have it on their possession, they have that much access."

"That's why we could never get our hands on one," Ashford said, musingly. "But what about your dagger? You said the link isn't perfect?"

Jon nodded. "I can't access the magic stored in there. Ever since my son died and his energy healed my wounds, the access to his magical power is locked from me. It does, however, protect me from very powerful spells. In fact, I've never had a spell defeat the dagger."

"And it's so powerful because he wasn't some being of energy that was quickly fading; he was a fully trained Magi," Ashford said. It was starting to make sense.

"Yes," Jon said. He spun the dagger around on the floor again. The dagger stopped with the bottom of the dagger pointing at Ashford.

Ashford blinked and then looked again. "What's that rune on the bottom of the handle?" Ashford said, pointing.

Jon picked it up and looked at it. "I don't know. The God told me to carve that on there. The rest of the Shadow Daggers don't have it. I've never been able to figure out what it is."

Ashford fell silent as he tried to process everything Jon just told him. He never pitied a man more in his life than he did Jon.

"So, is that what Jocelyn tortured you for?" he asked, after several minutes of silence.

"Yes."

"And she knows all these secrets, too?"

"All but one. Do you know how I stayed sane during the torture? I focused on one small detail that I refused to tell Jocelyn. One secret that I would keep. And she never knew."

"What was it?"

Jon grinned.

Note: Don't forget to vote!

Chapter 19 - Jon meets the goddess, Sophina and Peron attempt to bring in some help, and Evelyn starts to wonder...

Only 2 more chapters to go!



Shadow Dagger Ch. 19



"Your Grace, Grand Master Sura is without and kindly requests a moment of your time," Eve said, bowing.

"Of course. Send her in," Evelyn replied. She placed the book A Study of Magi and Their Role in Society on the table, marked the page she was reading, and rose smoothly from the chair by her windows.

Eve returned a moment later with Sura following behind. The newly appointed Grand Master, as short and squat as ever (but looking distinctly exhausted), smiled warmly and dropped into a small curtsy. "Your Grace."

"Grand Master," Evelyn replied, copying her curtsy. She hoped that was the appropriate thing to do.

Sura's knowing smile revealed that she sensed her hesitation. "Very proper," she said.

Evelyn sighed in relief. "I've been studying up on my new position but there's so much to learn!" She indicated her book with a wave of her hand.

Sura glanced down at the book. "Chauncey's Study I see. Well, I'm not surprised you couldn't find that information in there. The man was an absolute bore. I'm surprised I didn't catch you napping."

"He is pretty dry," Evelyn admitted, laughing. "Though his perspective of the Magi from a non-Magi view is fascinating."

"But not very revealing," Sura returned with a easy smile. "After all, a non-Magi can only know so much about our organization. I find Sheron's The God's Appointed Administrators both hysterical and revealing."

"I will have to read that one," Evelyn said, smiling. "But, where are my manners? Would you care for something to drink? Tea? Wine?"

"Some tea would be lovely."

"Eve, will you bring us some tea?" Evelyn asked her servant.

Eve bowed low. "Your Grace, if you and the Grand Master will follow me to your parlor, I will be happy to serve you."

Evelyn followed Eve to the her personal parlor adjourning her study and took a seat at the table by the window. Sura sat opposite her and smiled absently as Eve poured her some tea. After making sure that Evelyn and Sura had everything they needed, Eve quietly withdrew from the room.

Evelyn and Sura exchanged pleasantries as they blew on their tea and took small sips. After a good-sized swallow, Sura put down her cup and laced her fingers together.

"First of all, I want to congratulate you on your pregnancy."

Evelyn rubbed her stomach absently and smiled. Reynar had revealed that little fact nearly a week ago. It was a good thing too, Evelyn thought, because the secret had started to weigh on her.

"You are most kind," Evelyn said.

Sura smiled. The heavy-set woman reminded Evelyn of a kindly grandmother. "The entire council was delighted to hear it. We've been waiting for a heir for quite some time. It's was good to see King Reynar finally settle down."

"So I've been told," Evelyn quipped.

Sura laughed. "I'm sure you've been listening to that ever since the wedding."

Evelyn took a sip of her tea and smiled. Sura copied her but quickly set down her cup after one sip. "Can I be frank with you, Your Grace?"

"Certainly."

"Truth be told, I'm surprised to see you married so soon after Daminus' death. With all we know about soul-mates, I would've thought...you know..." Sura trailed off delicately.

"That I would have been stark-raving mad or dead by now?" Evelyn asked lightly.

A faint blush rose in Sura's pale, heavy-set face. "Well, frankly, yes. I've never seen a documented case of a soul-mate surviving their spouse's death."

Evelyn set down her cup of tea to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Luckily, Reynar and she came up with an answer the day after her wedding. "I took a gamble. Reynar had a theory that if I threw myself into another marriage, it might help ease the heartbreak. And once I became pregnant, perhaps that will finish healing the wound."

"And did it work?" Sura asked. She leaned forward in her chair and stared intently into Evelyn's face.

"Well, I don't feel like killing myself anytime soon," Evelyn replied, chuckling.

Sura sat back in her chair, stunned. "Amazing, simply amazing. We shall have to document this, of course."

It was Evelyn's turn to stare intently into Sura's face. "Grand Master, allow me to be frank, too. I know you must have been curious about my decision, but that's not really the reason you came to see me, is it?"

"You really are very clever. I had forgotten that." She shook her head and chuckled. "Okay, that's not the real reason I came here. While the fact that Reynar unexpectedly picked you to become his queen is highly interesting, the real reason I came here is to discuss Raynolt."

"What about him?" Evelyn asked, her voice suddenly cold. She still regretted her decision not to kill him. Mercy definitely had its drawbacks.

"It's a...convoluted situation," Sura said delicately. "We're just now finding out more information. It's been, what, a month since the attack at the Emporium?"

"It has. So what have you found out?"

"The Magi who claimed loyalty to him and were captured have finally started to crack," Sura said, her face twisting in disgust. "To think, Magi were loyal to that worm!" She shook her head in disbelief.

"Not all Magi are so virtuous as us," Evelyn replied.

Sura sighed. "No, I guess not. Well, it seems that Raynolt's association with the Magi Victus goes back many years, according to some of the prisoners. It appears that he has been planning a grab for power for many years."

"It doesn't surprise me," Evelyn said. "And you don't seem surprised, either."

"I've had my doubts about him," she said, nodding slowly. "And with everything that's happened in the last few months, well, let's just say I didn't buy all of Raynolt's stories at face value."

"What have we learned?"

Sura laughed, though her voice held no mirth. "Where to begin? That man had this thing meticulously planned, I'll give him that. First of all, it was Raynolt who hired the Magi Victus to assassinate Grand Master Boltus."

Evelyn shook her head. "That poor old man," she said sadly. She knew this all along, of course, as she had been there when Raynolt killed Boltus. But she had to play through this charade all the same.

"He also ordered some more assassinations," Sura said. She looked sadly at Evelyn and reached her hand across the table. Evelyn, confused, reached out and grasped her hand.

"Evelyn, my dear, I don't want to have to tell you this but it seems as though Raynolt was responsible for the death of your husband, Daminus. He was the one who hired Jon Laurent. And he was the one who burned his body to make it appear that Halas was responsible."

Even though Evelyn knew what was coming, it didn't stop a lump from forming in her throat. Sura squeezed her hand. 

"That bastard," Evelyn said vehemently. She didn't have to fake the venom in her voice.

Sura patted her hand again and sat back in her chair. "I'm sorry to have to bring this news to you, what with Raynolt still on the run. I know you must want justice."

"Justice will find him before the end," Evelyn said softly. If the chance presented itself again, she would not be merciful.

If only I had the courage to kill him when I had the chance!

"I don't doubt it will, Your Grace. And as I said, this also means that Raynolt set up Halas to take the fall for those crimes. He did a very thorough job of it."

"I assume Halas has already been freed?" Evelyn asked as she took a sip of her tea. The tea suddenly tasted very bitter. She sipped it just to give herself something to focus on.

"Of course, Your Grace. He was...a little worse for wear but happy all the same. He has been most ardently pursuing Raynolt's whereabouts since he was freed."

"That's good," Evelyn replied, hoping Sura took the hint from her tone of voice. She really didn't want to discuss anything anymore. It was very hard not to reveal information she already knew.

Sura, however, still looked like she had something she wanted to say. "What is it, Grand Master?" Evelyn asked reluctantly.

Sura licked her lips nervously before leaning over the table. "There is one more thing, Your Grace," she half-whispered.

Evelyn glanced around the room, even though she knew they were the only ones in there. Eve waited just outside the door should Evelyn have the need to call on her. 

"What is it?"

"It means that the rumors a while back about Raynolt trying to kill King Reynar were true," she whispered dramatically.

"Is that right?" Evelyn said, hoping her tone didn't betray her. She really needed Sura to leave.

Sura's eyes scanned Evelyn's face for any trace of whatever it was she was looking for. "Raynolt's actions lately have been...erratic," Sura said. "He hasn't been very forthcoming in the council meetings as of late. I thought perhaps you could enlighten us."

Evelyn suddenly knew that this was the real reason Sura had come. The news that Raynolt arranged the assassination of Daminus was just a ploy to gain Evelyn's trust.

"I know as much as you do," Evelyn said, somewhat coldly.

The conspiratorial half-smile on Sura's face melted off as quickly as wax from a candle. She sat back in her chair and stared hard at Evelyn. Evelyn was amazed at how quickly Sura's face transformed into solid rock.

"You two are up to something, aren't you?" Sura asked. "Why else would he suddenly marry you so soon after Daminus' death? And why did he cover up the fact that Raynolt was trying to assassinate him? And why does he have our entire standing army keeping guard on the palace and the city walls when we should be focusing on the Magi Victus?"

"I'm still learning about the powers of the king and council, but I believe the standing army is under the sole discretion of the king."

"He can't declare war," Sura snapped back. "That has to be an agreement between the king and the Grand Master."

"Funny, I don't see him declaring war," Evelyn said icily.

Sura's face darkened. "For too long have I stood by and watched our beloved order degenerate into anarchy and chaos. We have become diseased, Evelyn. We squabble like children and care only about power. I will see us return to our former glory by any means necessary."

Evelyn stood up and towered over Sura. "Was that a threat?"

Sura wiped her lips with her napkin, folded it neatly on the table, and stood up slowly. Even standing, she was inches smaller than Evelyn. "It's not a threat; it's a promise. I will clean up the Magi. Don't think for one second that King Reynar is exempt from this. He's been acting as suspicious as Raynolt."

Evelyn couldn't help it; she laughed. "Do you really think you could take him on? He would swat you like a fly!"

"I'm not an idiot, Evelyn. Could even our mighty King Reynar withstand the entire might of the Magi under my command?"

Evelyn stepped closer to Sura and stared down coldly into her face. "You would dispose of the king, would you? You know he has the divine right to rule. The people would overthrow you faster than you could blink."

Sura stared calmly up at Evelyn. "We're the ones with all the power, Your Grace. If I find out that Reynar had anything to do with this current madness plaguing us, you will see firsthand just how ready the people are to go up against the Magi."

"You wouldn't dare!" Evelyn hissed, though she felt a faint flicker of fear deep in her heart. What kind of world was her child coming into?

"It's time to put our house in order," Sura purred dramatically.

"I couldn't agree more," a deep voice said pleasantly.

Evelyn whirled around to the doorway. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she saw Reynar standing casually in the doorway.

Evelyn turned back to Sura, who had gone as white as a ghost. She opened her mouth several times, much a like a fish did when breathing the water.

"My liege!" she stammered. "I...I didn't see..."

Reynar walked into the room and it seemed like he brought a thick blanket of darkness with him. The room almost perceptively darkened as he strode toward Sura. Sura stumbled backwards until her back was against the wall.

"Were you threatening me and my wife?" Reynar asked quietly.

Sura gaped up at him. Her head barely came up to his belly. "No! No, of course not. I was merely--"

Reynar leaned down and put his hand on the wall next to her head. "You were merely implying that I conspired with Raynolt and the Magi Victus and caused the split in the Magi ranks, is that it?"

Sura shook her head rapidly but didn't say anything. It looked like she was too frightened to make any sounds at the moment. As much as it pleased Evelyn, she still found herself walking over to them.

"We were just discussing the news over tea, weren't we Grand Master?" Evelyn said kindly.

Reynar stood straight up and it seemed like the room brightened again. He turned toward Evelyn. "Ah, I thought so. Well, pardon my interruption, but I needed to see your, my dear. Grand Master, I believe you know the way out," he added.

Sura bobbed a hasty curtsy. "Yes, my liege!" She grabbed a handful of her robes and scurried from the room as fast as her pudgy legs would carry her.

"That wasn't nice," Evelyn said.

They stared at each other for a moment before Evelyn gave up and began to laugh. Reynar's booming laugh quickly joined hers.

"I'll have to admit, she has a spine," Reynar said, still chuckling.

Evelyn wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Now that Reynar was here, she felt her recent unease return. They hadn't spoken much since the wedding night. They hadn't even shared the same room at night. Just the thought of it made Evelyn nauseous.

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to hurt her," Evelyn admitted.

The laughter faded from Reynar's face. He sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair. "I'll admit I wanted to. When I heard her threatening you..." He shook his head.

Evelyn found that she was oddly touched. "Thanks," she said.

Reynar smiled at her. "She wanted to know my plans, didn't she?"

"Yes. She's not going to be a very docile Grand Master, it seems. Normally I think that would be a good thing, but now..."

"I know," Reynar sighed. "With your pregnancy, the last thing we need is a nosy Grand Master. But I think my little display here might have been enough to scare her off for a while." 

Evelyn couldn't argue with that so she merely nodded her head. The unease in her stomach intensified as neither one spoke. The awkwardness between them was really starting to wear on Evelyn.

"So, did you really need to see me?" Evelyn finally asked.

"Yes," Reynar said, clearly relieved to have something to talk about. "I was wondering how your studying is going. The council has been bugging me as to when you will finally make your first appearance as queen."

"I'm guess I'm ready as I'm ever going to be," Evelyn sighed. "Maybe learning by experience will be more helpful."

"Yes, probably," Reynar agreed.

Evelyn fidgeted with her hands as another uncomfortable silence yawned between them. Reynar was staring at her, his jaw moving as though he was trying to find words to speak.

Evelyn couldn't take it anymore. "That's not why you really wanted to see me, is it?" she found herself asking for the second time that day.

Reynar opened his mouth, apparently thought better of it, and simply let out his breath. He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders. Evelyn had been around him enough to learn that running his hand through his hair was a sign of nervousness.

"You just wanted to see me, didn't you?" Evelyn guessed

"Was I that obvious?" Reynar said, smiling shyly.

When he smiled like that, Evelyn felt the uneasiness in her stomach diminish. She even found herself smiling. "You shouldn't be so nervous. I am your wife, after all."

Reynar's smile faded as his eyes scanned her face restlessly. "Evelyn, I just...I can't stop thinking about our wedding night. I know I told you it was okay to think that I was Daminus...but I thought after a while you were really with me."

Evelyn ducked her head, unable to bear the hurt look in his eyes. "I can't explain what happened," she mumbled.

"I don't mean to push you, Evelyn. I just find you to be a very amazing woman. A man can't help but to fall in love with you."

A month ago those words would have made her heart clench in pain. She would have ran sobbing from the room. Now, those words only caused a bittersweet feeling in her heart.

"Maybe one day I can return that love," she offered him.

"Maybe," he repeated. He appeared to consider the words for several moments. "I can live with that," he said finally.

Evelyn felt a small weight lift off of her shoulders. It felt good to reach an understanding with him. She looked up into his face and smiled. "Thank you."

He reached down and softly caressed the side of her face. Evelyn didn't mind; in fact, it felt rather nice. "I will leave you to your studying. Just let me know if Sura tries to corner you again, ok?"

The reminder of Sura brought back the conversation she had had with her. Reynar was by the door when Evelyn stopped him. "Why are you using the army to guard the palace?" she dared to ask him.

His back went rigid for a moment before he turned back to her with an amused smile. "I thought that was obvious. I have to protect you from Jon Laurent, remember?"

"But is it really necessary to abandon the war with the Magi Victus to do it?" she pressed him. Sura's fears had evidently sunk into her more than she thought.

"To protect your life and the life of the child you carry?" he asked, his voice no longer amused. "Yes."

"But why are you beggaring the protection of the rest of the country to protect me?" Her fears and the uneasiness she felt over the past month were finally pushing her to speak. "Why does it feel like everything hangs on the birth of my child?"

Her question clearly caught Reynar off guard. While he struggled to answer her, the child in her womb suddenly shifted. Evelyn was so startled that she gasped and clutched her stomach.

Reynar was by her side in an instant. "What is it? Is the child ok?"

Evelyn nodded. Whatever had just happened was over. Only the sense of uneasiness lingered. "I'm fine. The baby moved, that's all."

Reynar laid his hand on her stomach and held it there for several moments. His eyes were closed and he was whispering under his breath. 

The uneasiness in her stomach strengthened. Something was very wrong with her child. This feeling had been plaguing her dreams for a month.

"I'm fine," Evelyn repeated angrily. She stepped back from his embrace and instantly felt the feeling in her stomach lessen.

"The baby is healthy," Reynar said. He let out a relieved breath and gave Evelyn a shaky smile. "Sorry, I was just concerned. You have little more than a month left and you still barely have a bump."

"I still want an answer to my question," Evelyn demanded. She was more determined than ever. She didn't how but she knew her baby was more aware of the outside world than a regular child should be.

Reynar frowned. "From what I've been told by the desert goddess, your child will be more advanced than any other Magi by the time it's five years old. And that includes Jon Laurent. The best opportunity for Jon to act is when the child is first born."

"Five years old?" Evelyn repeated incredulously. "That's impossible!"

"Who knows what's impossible?" Reynar asked rhetorically. "Now, my dear, if you will excuse me I have much to do."

Evelyn stopped him again. "You wouldn't hide anything from me, would you?"

Reynar's shoulders sagged. He shook his head and looked over at her. His attempt at a smile was just that, an attempt. "No, of course not."

Evelyn kept her face blank and nodded. Reynar tried smiling once again as he turned and left the room.

For the first time since Evelyn decided to leave with him during that fateful Summer Festival, doubt crept into her heart. When Reynar tried smiling at her and assured her that he wasn't hiding anything from her, she knew he was lying.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 19



The surge of uneasiness in her stomach had nearly made her vomit when he said those words.

***

Sophina stretched out the map on the table and said nothing. The people around the table didn't speak either. The map covered the entire city and showed the placement of soldiers they had scouted.

They were running out of options. The sewers ran under the streets of the entire city. Theoretically, their forces could come out the sewers behind enemy lines and attack them before they knew what was happening. Unfortunately, they had a small problem that made that option pointless.

They were outnumbered thirty to one.

"Looking at that map isn't going to magically solve our problems," Raynolt said scornfully. "We know that damn map backwards and forwards. We've been studying the God-forsaken thing for a month!"

Sophina looked up and gave Raynolt the hardest stare she had. Raynolt muttered under his breath and looked away. Unfortunately, Sophina knew he was right. But she would be damned if she told him that.

"The gates are out best option," Peron said, pointing to the three gates leading into the city. The east side of the city held only cliffs and the ocean.

"Huh, I've never heard you give that opinion before," Raynolt snapped. "Why are we going over the same damn points every time we meet?"

"He's right, we're not getting anywhere," Sanje interjected.

"We're chipping away at their numbers," Sophina said. From the look on the faces surrounding her, they knew she was grasping at straws.

Raynolt chortled but said nothing. A drip of water fall from the grimy ceiling and dropped onto Sophina's hand. She grimaced and wiped it absentmindedly on her trousers.

Damn that Reynar for forcing us to meet in the sewers! she thought bitterly. She couldn't remember the last time she had a decent bath. Though, to be honest, she wasn't particularly fond of bathhouses anymore. Her body still hadn't recovered from that bloodbath.

"We're losing that battle," Peron said, dejectedly. Even he was starting to feel the oppressiveness of the sewers. "The Magi can spare the losses it takes to kill the Magi Victus we use to hound them."

Sophina sighed and turned back to Sanje. "How many men do you have left?"

"Too few," he said. If the cowl of his cloak wasn't hiding his features, she knew he would be scowling at her. "I barely have enough men to assault the palace when the day comes."

"If the day comes," Raynolt corrected him.

Sophina ignored him. She turned back to Peron. "I think the gates are the best option, too. There's just no way we can sneak 1,000 men over the walls, not without alerting the Magi. We would be slaughtered."

"For the last time, we can't commit our forces to a gate!" Raynolt growled. "Even if we do manage to take a gate, which you know are very heavily guarded, and let in Peron's men, Reynar will have shown up with his reinforcements by then! Our reduced numbers won't stand a chance against him!"

"Not to mention we have no way to communicate with Peron's men in order to communicate the plan," Sanje added.

"That's true," Peron sighed. "It will take some time to gather all the men in one place. Right now, I have them scattered in different villages in all directions so as to not cause suspicion."

Sophina let their objections wash over her. She had heard the same arguments for the past month. This time, she had made a decision the night before. The thought twisted her stomach.

"We still have one last option," Sophina said quietly.

She saw that that got all of their attention. Peron perked up and even Raynolt looked intrigued against his better judgment. Sanje was as still and silent as ever.

"Which is?" Peron asked.

Sophina looked down as though studying the map again. She was really just buying time to do some last-minute thinking. But nothing came to her in a moment of inspiration. She had no choice.

"First, we would need to sneak you out of the city to gather your men," she said, nodding at Peron.

"Not an impossible thing to do," Raynolt mused. For once, there was no trace of contempt in his voice. "But what good does that do?"

"It readies his men for the assault, obviously," Sophina said.

"What assault?" Raynolt snapped. "We've already told you, we can't commit--"

"We use Marcus to clear the gate," Sophina cut in.

An ominous silence descended into their dank alcove in the filthy sewer beneath the city streets. The flickering torch on the wall hid most of their faces in shifting shadows.

"Sophina..." Peron began but was cut off by Raynolt.

"Ah, this mysterious friend of yours? Tell me, who is this man that you feel can waltz up to a heavily fortified gate and simply clear it of men?"

"I've seen him in action," Sanje said quietly. "It was that night when Reynar's men attacked. I don't know what he is, but he's no simple Magi."

Raynolt scowled; a sight more hideous than usual as most of his face was covered in flickering shadows. "It seems mysterious and powerful Magi are coming out of the woodworks these days. First Reynar, then Jon, then Evelyn, and now this Marcus."

"Can we trust him?" Peron asked.

"Yes," Sophina said simply. She, however, had never known a more complicated situation in her life. Peron knew the truth but Sanje and Raynolt were ignorant of the danger they were in. Raynolt more than Sanje; Sanje had been part of Marcus' breakdown a month ago.

"Then why, in the God's name, have we been banging our heads against these disgusting sewer walls for the past month?" Raynolt demanded.

"He's unstable," Sanje said, a trace of amusement in his voice. "The hole I made in the wall of the Snakepit tavern can give evidence to that."

Sophina smiled slightly and Peron chuckled. "What does that mean?" Raynolt asked impatiently.

"He's not mentally stable," Sophina clarified. "We run a risk of him attacking us as well as the guards."

"Oh, perfect," Raynolt muttered. "Just what we need; another complication."

"It's a risk we have to take," Sophina said firmly.

Nobody argued. They all knew they were out of options. "When do I leave?" Peron asked.

"Tonight," Sophina replied. "How long will it take to gather your men?"

Peron thought it over for a moment. "I can do it in less than a month. The men are scattered to the four corners and it will take some time to get all of them here."

"You seem to be forgetting one thing," Raynolt said.

"What's that?" Sophina growled. She wanted nothing more than to drive her sword through his black heart at that precise moment. He always had to complicate things.

"My payment," he said coldly. "I, and that means my Magi, won't lift a finger to help unless I get what's owed to me."

"You will have to wait until Jon gets back," Sophina said through gritted teeth.

"And when is that, exactly?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sophina snapped.

Raynolt leaned closer to the table. His face was fully revealed by the torchlight. He stared hard at Sophina as he spoke. "Then Jon has a month. If he isn't back by the time the assault starts, you will have to do it without my Magi."

"Fine," Sophina said. "We need to outline our plan before Peron leaves. Do you consent to that much, Raynolt?"

Raynolt leaned back into the shadows but Sophina could still see the smirk on his face. "Plan away, my dear Sophina. Plan away."

***

The pack Sanje carried hardly weighed anything but it seemed like he carried the weight of the world with him. He had made this journey down the sewers far too often the past few weeks.

He located the blank stone wall he needed and pushed the right brick. The brick sunk into the wall, which slid slowly sideways, and revealed a sturdy iron door with no visible handle.

Sanje took out his Shadow Dagger and inserted it into the slot on the face of the door. The dagger clicked into place and the door swung silently open. Sanje made his way through the dark hallway on memory rather than sight.

When he felt the hallway end, he opened his pack and took out a torch. He felt along the wall until he found the barrel of oil that was left there for the purpose of lighting the torches. He dipped his torch in the barrel and used flint and tinder to ignite it.

He made the customary circle around the perimeter of the room, lighting the torches as he went. Soon, the round chamber with its high ceiling was well lit. The only remarkable feature of the room was the huge stone block that took up most of the space .

On the front surface of the stone hung thousands of Shadow Daggers. It was about to hold a few more. Sanje knelt on the ground and reverently removed the Shadow Daggers in his pack. There were seven daggers.

Seven Magi Victus lost in one week...has there ever been such a loss in our history? How will I be remembered as Master Victus?

Sanje prayed with all his heart and soul that he would be remembered for finally bringing freedom and peace to the Magi Victus. He took out the metal plaques and nails required to hang the daggers on the stone.

He worked as quickly and efficiently as possible. He thought little as his body went through the familiar motions of nailing the plaques to the stone. Before he knew it, he had all seven daggers hung on the plaques.

The daggers shone brilliantly as the stone absorbed them. When the glow faded, the daggers looked like a permanent part of the stone. Sanje counted the daggers he had personally hung and felt a deep shame. He had sacrificed so many Magi Victus.

As he sat on the ground, he contemplated the one question he always contemplated on his trips here. What was this stone monument and what purpose did it serve?

No miraculous bolt of understanding hit him. He knew he would never know the answer. But that didn't mean he wasn't suppose to think about it. A Magi Victus' life should have meaning. Those daggers contain portions of every Magi Victus' soul. Why did the stone seem to absorb the daggers?

The questions faded from his mind, as they always did. He sat quietly, closed his eyes, and held his silent vigil for the new additions to the stone monument.

***

Ashford gave up sleeping as a bad job and rolled reluctantly to the side of the cot. Pre-dawn light filtered in from the openings in the tent flap. It had been a long night, full of nameless fears and worries.

"You think too much," a voice purred from behind him.

"My superiors always said I think too little," Ashford replied. He stood up, naked, and made his way to the basin of water on the table. "They always said I was too hot-headed and stubborn."

"You Astuarians are beyond my understanding," Istas complained. Ashford felt warm arms wrap around his chest and wet lips nipping the base of his neck. "Except when it comes to pleasing a woman," she whispered by his ear.

Ashford shrugged her off. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

She grabbed his arm hard and turned him to face her. Her dark eyes were as hard as stones. "I take what I want. Be a man and don't complain. It's a bad trait for a leader."

"I'm no leader," Ashford growled. Why did the woman insist on pestering him every day?

"Your friend has no intention of staying," she hissed. "You're in a position to seize power once he leaves."

"I have no intention of staying, either," he told her firmly. "I've told you that many times before."

Her eyes flashed dangerously for a brief moment. But then she smiled. "My husband is a stubborn man," she murmured.

She said it to annoy him, Ashford knew. And it frustrated him to no end that she had succeeded once again. "I'm not your husband!"

She laughed and patted his face. "I'll let you have your little fantasy. For now," she added, winking. "But in time, I will teach you to never say that again."

Ashford growled in frustration and distracted himself by splashing water on his face. 

Just because I killed her husband, doesn't mean I am her bloody husband!

He dried his face and grabbed a fresh robe from his pack. "I need to go see Jon," he said, not daring to look at Istas.

"Of course you do, my husband," she replied sweetly. Ashford gritted his teeth. "You're a very important man. You need to be with him when he faces the final tribe."

The final tribe...Ashford could hardly believe it. He thought after the difficulty in taking the city of Shade that they would never get to the goddess in time. But Jon's army swelled with the ranks of the new warriors from the Coyote tribe.

Consequently, the Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Spider felt his best possibility of survival lay in challenging Jon in one on one combat. The Spider's city wasn't a very defensible city. Jon's army would have destroyed everything in their path as easily as a farmer plows a field.

Needless to say, Jon killed him easily. After that, Jon's army swelled even more. The Tribe of the Desert Fox tried a sneak attack during the night as Jon's army camped outside their small city. They hoped to carve a path toward Jon's tent. It didn't turn out well for them.

The Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Hyena challenged Jon to combat blindfolded. The man had obviously heard of Jon's battle prowess and knew he didn't stand a chance in a fair fight. Jon won that fight with one move.

The Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Bobcat swore he would never see his tribe bend knee to an Astuarian. He told Jon that the only way he would fight Jon was if his whole army fought their way through the city. He swore he would bloody Jon's army every step of the way.

His tribesman, as it turns out, weren't so keen to be offered up like lambs to a slaughter. On the night before the attack, the tribesman arrived at Jon's camp and deposited their Chieftain's body at Jon's feet.

And now the only tribe left was the Tribe of the Desert Cheetah. They were currently camped below a tall ridge that would reveal the last city in the desert of Raves.

The city the goddess called home.

"Have you ever seen the goddess?" Ashford asked curiously as he dressed.

Istas sniffed. "My husband was never important enough to meet the goddess. But now, I think I have a good feeling."

Ashford would sooner cut off his hand than let Istas join him. Not after what Jon told him. No, if he met the goddess, it would be Jon and him only.

Once Ashford was dressed, he picked up a small bundle wrapped in black cloth and stuck it under the belt of his trousers that he wore underneath his robe. The robe hung down to his feet and neatly concealed the bundle.

"Wish us luck," he told Istas.

She walked up to him, still naked, and kissed him. "We will see great glory this day," she said lustfully.

Ashford took one last look at her glorious body and left the tent. The sun was barely rising over the horizon. He made his way through the makeshift camp and quickly found Jon's tent.

"Jon, are you up?" he called out.

Two tribesman standing guard by the tent flap gave him hard looks. Ashford did his best to ignore the itchy feeling on the back of his neck. He kept expecting a knife in his back sooner or later. These tribesman hated Magi with a passion.

"Come in, Ashford," came Jon's calm voice.

Ashford walked past the guards and ducked into the tent. Jon was pulling on a dark brown coat and stomping into his boots. His chestnut-brown hair showed no signs that he had slept. Ashford's own dark hair had grown considerably in the past month and was a decent length again. Istas liked to grab a handful of it when they made love.

"Today's the day," Ashford said nervously. The past night's fears still lingered in his mind.

"Don't worry," Jon replied. He smiled warmly at Ashford. "All will be well."

"How are you not scared?" Ashford asked.

"Because things are finally coming together," Jon said solemnly. "I have been waiting for these days for the past two thousand years. That's a long time to wait, Ashford."

"I bet," Ashford breathed. Two thousand years? Ashford was shocked that Jon hadn't lost his mind from waiting that long.

"Come, Ashford, Chieftain Diazan awaits us at the gates to the city. I'm most anxious to see this city. Have you heard anything about it from Istas?"

Ashford shook his head. He pulled back the tent flap and followed Jon out. The guards gave Ashford another hard look before following them.

"These tribesman are very tight-lipped when it comes to the goddess. Apparently, they consider this city to be a holy place. All I've heard is that there is nowhere else like it in the desert."

"That's about the extent of my knowledge," Jon said.

They arrived at the picket line for the horses. They mounted the horses that were given to them and waited as Jon's lieutenants mounted up. Once the party was formed, they snapped the reigns and began to move out.

The army marched behind them as they rode out of the camp and toward the ridge that dominated the skyline. Ashford rode beside Jon, as did his top lieutenant, Dasan. The heavily scarred warrior hardly spoke in Ashford's presence. Either the man didn't much care for words or he didn't like Ashford.

Either way, very little was said as their horses struggled up the road that led to the crest of the ridge. After several minutes of hard climbing, their horses finally managed to scramble over. The sight that met them would stay with Ashford forever.

The rising sun set off reflections of dark reds and yellows off the glass buildings. Ashford shook his head and looked again.

The city seemed to be made entirely of glass.

Ashford saw nothing but elaborately constructed buildings and statutes made from glass. The walls that surrounded the city were glass at least a half a mile thick. The building that resembled a wave crashing against the rocks was glass. The huge palace that shone like a beacon in the middle of the city was made entirely of glass.

"The God be great," Ashford breathed. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Is that a lake?" Jon asked, pointing.

"Yes," grunted Dasan.

Ashford saw where Jon was pointing. Sure enough, west of the city was a huge lake. Ashford also realized that the area around the city was neatly landscaped with thick grass and tall palm trees.

"It's an oasis," Ashford whispered in awe.

"We had cities as magnificent as this," Jon whispered sadly. "The true-born destroyed most of them."

"Was this made in your time?" Ashford whispered back, mindful of Dasan on Jon's other side.

Jon shook his head. "No, this is new," he said quietly. He shook his head and started his horse forward.

Ashford's awe was barely contained as they drew closer to the city. Up close, the buildings and statutes were dizzying in their beauty. The sun reflected a multitude of colors deep within the glass.

As they drew closer to the gate, Ashford spotted a lone man standing in the road. "That's probably Chieftain Diazan," he guessed.

Jon nodded. "One last man, Ashford. After this, there is no turning back. Are you ready?"

"Do you have to ask?" Ashford joked. He swallowed.

Jon's lips twitched as they made their way to the man standing in the road. Ashford glanced back and was comforted to see their massive army standing in ranks behind them.

"Chieftain Jon D'Thelas san Ronar, allow me to welcome you to the city of Oasis," Diazan said, his arms held out wide to indicate the city behind him.

Jon dismounted from his horse and Ashford followed suit. Jon approached Diazan and bowed respectfully. "It's a most beautiful city, Chieftain Diazan."

Ashford didn't like the smirk on Diazan's face. "Yes it is, Chieftain Jon. However, I must inform you that you will never step foot inside."

"We'll see," was all Jon replied.

Diazan laughed. "I can't tell you how long I've looked forward to this day."

Diazan's eyes flashed silver for a brief moment. Ashford almost shouted in shock as he hurriedly opened himself to his magic. The calm look on Jon's face was almost as much as a shock. He looked like he had anticipated this very thing.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 19



For anybody that wasn't a Magi, the flash of silver in Diazan's eyes was too brief to properly see. But Ashford knew and so did Jon.

"It shouldn't surprise you, Chieftain Jon, to learn that I'm a direct descendant of Jocelyn D'Ontorio san Tumari. Which means I am of the goddess' bloodline; a bloodline whose responsibility is to carry on Jocelyn's mission."

Ashford felt a cold fear clench his heart. The nightmares he endured every night for a month were becoming real. Jon, however, merely smirked.

"Is that right?" he asked lightly.

Diazan's smirk transformed into a hard anger. "I know everything about you, Jon D'Thelas san Ronar. I know your entire history. I know how to kill you."

"Then prove it," Jon said coldly.

Diazan growled and unsheathed his sword. His eyes burned silver as he gestured toward Jon. Ashford cried out a warning and prepared a deadly spell of his own.

The spell was merely a distraction, however. Diazan had conjured a harmless light spell that went off in Jon's face; a spell that was hard to distinguish from a flare of sunlight.

Diazan simply disappeared. He had obviously been studying how to use magic to enhance his battle prowess. Ashford used the same technique himself so he was able to spot Diazan as he covered the ground between him and Jon in a blink of an eye.

The light spell and the blazing charge had taken just a matter of seconds. An ordinary Magi would have been dead before he could blink.

Jon was no ordinary Magi.

The fight ended faster than even Ashford could see. All he knew was that Jon's sword was buried deep into Diazan's chest. Diazan's own sword lay at his feet.

"How?" he gasped.

It was only then that Ashford saw the runes disappearing from Diazan's body. Ashford recognized the runes as the runes for a 10th Tier protection spell.

In the seconds it took for Diazan to cast the light spell, cast the protection spell, and charge with his sword leading the way, Jon had used his own magic to disable the protection spell so his sword could do its work.

"Knowing something is different from actually doing it," Jon whispered. He pulled his sword free and Diazan's body fell lifelessly to the ground.

Ashford took a few moments to catch his breath. He didn't think Jon would ever cease to amaze him. From the muttering of the army behind him, it seemed that this fight scared them as much as it did Ashford. What had it looked like to a non-Magi eye?

"A brief fight," Dasan noted as he scowled down at Diazan's body. "This was the mighty Chieftain of the Desert Cheetah?"

Ashford turned back toward the city as he heard the gates swing open. A crowd of people were gathered around the entrance. A woman in bright blue silk stepped forward from the crowd and walked fearlessly toward Jon.

"Jon D'Thelas san Ronar, Chieftain of Raves, the goddess sends her greetings and bids you to follow me. She is waiting most anxiously for your arrival."

Jon glanced over at Ashford and nodded. Swallowing, Ashford nodded back.

***

The distant sounds of a large skirmish several blocks away assaulted Sophina's ears. She did her best to ignore the sound of steel clashing on steel and the faint cries of pain. The fact that the distraction was necessary did little to assuage her conscience.

Not only were Peron's men risking their lives, but the soldiers defending the city were her former comrades. They were only doing their job.

Another reason why Reynar has to die, Sophina thought bitterly.

She motioned with her hand and slowly turned the corner of the alley they were currently hiding in. The street ahead of them was clear; the soldiers predictably deserted their posts when they heard the fighting.

"It looks clear," Peron whispered from her right side. He hitched the traveling pack higher on his shoulders and scanned the area around them.

Raynolt crept along on Sophina's left side. Two of Peron's men brought up the rear. The rest were off fighting the guards just a few blocks away. Several Magi were with the men to provide cover when they retreated. Sanje and his men were creeping along in the shadows nearby.

They made it to the wall surrounding the city without incident. Sophina stopped and motioned Raynolt closer. "Is it warded?" she whispered.

Raynolt studied the wall and nodded. "I know these runes like I know the back of my hand. I will deactivate them long enough for your friend to make his way over the wall."

Sophina waited patiently as Raynolt began to cast his spell. She glanced nervously around but saw no sign of movement. Distant sounds of fighting let her know that Peron's men were still buying them enough time.

"It's done," Raynolt said. Here in the shadow of the wall, where the stars couldn't shine, Raynolt's silver eyes were disconcerting. He looked like a demon from her mother's stories.

As he spoke, Sanje and his Magi Victus appeared suddenly from the shadow of the wall. Several of them carried ropes and grappling hooks.

"Are you ready?" Sophina asked Sanje.

Sanje tugged the hood of his cloak tighter around his face and nodded. He wasn't much for words. He grabbed his rope near the end of the grappling hook and let it slide down his hands to give it enough slack. He whirled it quickly through the air and flung it high in the air. His men followed his lead.

Sophina whistled under her breath as several grappling hooks soared high into the sky; much higher, she knew, than a normal person could have thrown it. The hooks disappeared over the top of the wall.

Sanje tugged his rope and it quivered with tension. Nodding, he wasted no time in scrabbling up the side of the wall. Sophina could only watch in awe as several dark forms disappeared into the shadow of the wall quicker than she could blink.

She stopped herself from biting her nails as she studied the top of the wall. She thought she saw a flash of movement as the Magi Victus jumped over the top. She could hear a muffled cry and a thump. This noise repeated itself several times.

A dark form appeared over the top of the wall and made a fist. The moonlight was bright enough to allow Sophina to make out his form against the night sky. She turned to Peron.

"Are you ready?"

Peron shifted the pack on his shoulder and nodded. "Don't miss me too much," he whispered. He chuckled to himself and moved toward one of the dangling ropes. 

Sophina grabbed his arm to stop him. "I have to know; why are you doing this? I know I paid you a lot of gold but this is insane. Why are you helping us?"

Peron cocked his head and studied her face for a long moment. "If I say it's because of you, would that make you want to sleep with me?"

Even if it was too dark to see, Peron had to know that she rolled her eyes. His quiet laugh confirmed this for her. "Sophina, I'm a warrior. It's all I know. It's all I've ever known. It's what I love to do. Besides, I still want my revenge on Reynar."

"You're crazy, you know that?" She couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice.

Peron patted her shoulder. "Everybody knows this. Are you just now figuring that out?"

"Thank you," she whispered. She meant it from the bottom of her heart.

Peron smiled and turned back to the wall. Sophina grabbed his arm again. His eyebrows were still lifting in surprise when she crushed his lips against hers. His eyes were as round as an owl's when she pushed him away.

"For luck," she said simply.

Raynolt cleared his voice from behind her. "We don't exactly have all day."

Peron looked like he had just been run over by a stampede of horses. He touched his lips and shook his head in wonder. "Is there any chance--"

"Go," she told him, pushing him toward the wall. "And come back alive. Remember the plan."

"I will see you again," he swore. He turned back toward the wall and scrambled up the rope as neatly as any Magi Victus, albeit a bit slower.

"What do you think the odds of him succeeding are?" Raynolt asked conversationally.

Sophina turned away from the wall and starting walking back. From the top of the wall, a horn blared suddenly. Peron's men would know to pull back immediately.

"The God be with you," Sophina whispered under her breath. "Or we're all doomed."

***

Jon paid little attention to the glass buildings around him or the stone tiles beneath his feet. If anything, this city only served to prove to him that his guess was right. He hadn't wasted his time.

The goddess just had to be Jocelyn.

Nothing else made sense. Only she could have orchestrated this whole thing. Only she could have created this city. How she did it, without the help of the true-born, Jon didn't know. But he knew it was her.

Their guide took them through the center of the city. Blank faces stared at them from doorways of shops and from tribesman walking by. They had to know what this was about.

"There's something wrong with these people," Ashford whispered. He sounded scared. Jon couldn't blame him.

"Forget about them. Just think about what lies ahead. Do you remember everything I told you?"

"Of course. I'm ready, Jon."

Their guide turned her head and smiled vaguely at them. "Our city is more beautiful than Astuari, is it not?"

"It depends on how you define beauty," Jon said, carefully keeping his voice light and even. He didn't know how these people would react if he was too aggressive. How many of them could use magic?

Their guide's face crinkled in confusion. "Beauty doesn't need a definition. It simply is. See how that's buildings shaped? It's a work of living art, not some dead and lifeless stone your people use. Nothing here is just solely for function."

Jon nodded. "In that way, then yes, it's indeed beautiful. But if you define beauty by the soul something possesses, then it's sadly lacking."

The guide's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Jon gestured vaguely to the people watching them walk past. "I've seen more life in corpses. This beauty you speak of is hollow and without meaning."

The guide scowled and turned back around. Ashford looked nervously at Jon. "Was it wise to antagonize her like that?"

"Probably not," Jon admitted. "I just wanted to see her reaction. I wanted to know if any surprises await us."

"Did you learn anything?" Ashford whispered, his voice barely registering over the sound of their boots stomping on the stone tiles.

"She shows more life than these people. I think that means she's a Magi."

"Oh great," Ashford moaned. "I'm starting to think we won't get out of this alive."

Jon patted him on the shoulder. "Just remember the plan. I will make sure you survive."

"We're here," the guide said suddenly. Her eyes were still narrowed in anger. She had stopped in front of the palace Jon had spotted earlier from the top of the ridge overlooking the city.

"Lead the way," Jon said, as polite as he could.

Her guide crossed her arms over her breasts. She swung her dark head angrily. "Your men must stay behind. The goddess has asked to see only you and Ashford Caulston."

"Be on your guard," Jon warned Dasan.

The big tribesman merely grunted and turned around, his hand falling on the handle of his sword. Jon turned back toward the guide. "We're ready."

She lead them through two massive doors of rainbow colored glass. Tribesman guarding the doors, their faces blank, never even glanced at Jon. Jon mentally prepared himself for any contingency. He knew he could defeat Jocelyn in a fight but he was worried about Ashford. He just hoped he had taught him enough magic over the past two months.

Jon paid little attention to the rich decorations adorning the walls of the palace as their guide lead them deeper into the building. They past several large courtyards and fountains. Jon saw more tribesman standing guard in every hallway, their faces as blank as stone.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes, their guide stopped in front of two doors of solid oak. She grabbed both handles and pushed the doors inward. Jon and Ashford followed behind her.

She led them through a large room with a long carpet laid out beneath their feet. Several cushions made for sitting were scattered along the glass walls. Torches hung on chains that ran from glass column to glass column.

But Jon kept his focus on the end of the room. This large throne room was empty save for a figure sitting on a large throne of pure crystal. As they drew closer, Jon could make out her features.

He stopped walking. Ashford stopped next to him and their guide turned around, her face carefully blank. "Is there something wrong, Chieftain?"

"Who are you?" Jon demanded of the person sitting on the throne.

A severely wrinkled old woman laughed wheezingly. Her teeth were crooked and nearly black. "I'm the goddess you've been so desperate to meet."

"No, you're not," Jon snarled. A blinding rage had overcome him. She still wanted to play games, did she?

"What's wrong?" Ashford whispered. "That isn't her?"

The guide offered her arm to the goddess. The goddess smiled kindly at her and used her arm to gingerly step off the throne. Their guide led the old woman over to them.

"Of course I'm the goddess," the old woman said pleasantly. "I have been for many years now. I inherited the title from my mother. Just as my daughter will from me," she added, patting their guide's forearm.

Jon felt a cold sweat break out over his forehead. Could he have been wrong? Had he just wasted everything on a hunch?

"No need to be so shy," she laughed. "Please, tell me, why were you so desperate to see me?"

"I thought..." Jon trailed off and shook his head. "I wanted to know what you told King Reynar about--"

"Ahh," the goddess said, her eyes widening. "I knew somebody would come one day asking about that. How about I make you a deal?"

"What deal?" Jon asked cautiously. What was going on here? Something didn't feel right.

The goddess smiled up at him, revealing those horrifying teeth. "For a kiss, I will tell you everything you want to know."

Jon froze. He felt a sudden tension in the air as the goddess stared at him with a heated intensity. Those eyes...he knew those eyes. They were as dark as night and burned with a bright passion and a desperate yearning.

"It can't be you," he whispered in shock.

The tension in Jon's shoulders increased as the goddess' smile spread slowly across her face. "I was never very good at deception, was I? Asking for the kiss was a bit much, I suppose."

Jon reacted without thought. He seized his magic and prepared a spell of holding in his mind. He shaped the spell in his mind and released it.

At least, that's what he tried to do. No sooner did he seize his magic than the goddess' eyes turned silver. An unfamiliar net of runes materialized in the air before him and settled over his head.

Jon's magic had been cut off.

Ashford's cry from next to him told Jon the same thing had happened to him. He couldn't believe it. Stopping a Magi from using his power was impossible!

The goddess smirked and contemptuously waved a spell of holding over them both. The runes wrapped around Jon's body and held him perfectly still.

"How did you-"

The goddess held up her hand, cutting Jon off. She turned to her daughter. "Esmy, prepare the rooms for our guests. I wish to have a chat with them first."

"Yes, Mother," Esmy replied reverently. She didn't even glance at Jon or Ashford as she swept from the room.

As soon as she left, two guards walked in from the door across from the throne. Jon spat on the floor as Dasan and another one of Jon's lieutenants walked toward him.

"A Magi, huh Dasan?" Jon growled.

Dasan's face twisted in disgust. He stopped in front of Jon and casually backhanded him across the face. Jon spat out blood and stared back at Dasan.

"I was so glad to hear that you promoted my son to such a lofty position," the goddess said, smiling. "Well, he's not really my son. Nor is Esmy really my daughter. They're several generations removed, of course. But still, I consider them my children."

"What have the years done to you, Jocelyn?" Jon asked calmly. "You're hideous."

A flash of intense anger crossed her face before her benevolent mask slipped back on. "Jon, I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear my name on your lips again. It takes me back years."

"Years that haven't treated you kindly," Jon said, hoping to score another hit.

But Jocelyn only chuckled. "You're ignorant of so many things, Jon. I should be the one who says the years haven't treated you kindly."

"Obviously you're eyes are as decrepit as the rest of your body, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn sighed. "You're usually so good as seeing beneath the skin, my dear Jon. Perhaps the years have robbed you of your intelligence. I will have to educate you. I despise this form anyways."

Jon turned his head in disgust as Jocelyn grabbed the hem of her white robe and pulled it over her body. Jon forced himself to turn back to see what she was attempting to do. Her body was as wrinkled as her face. The flesh hung off of her body like ill-fitting clothes.

"Watch closely," she purred. Her eyes glowed brighter as she started to move her hands over her body. She shaped the runes with a deft touch he had never seen her use before. Runes, whose purpose Jon didn't know, began to cover her entire body.

The runes glowed brilliantly as they appeared to sink into her flesh. The silver glow now appeared to be emanating from within her flesh. Jocelyn arched her back and cried out as the silver glow consumed her.

Jon squinted as the glow became too much to look at. He could only make out a ball of silver in front of him. This continued for several minutes as Jocelyn's screams became louder and shriller.

Suddenly, the glow vanished completely. Jon blinked rapidly to dispel the dots the glow had left in his vision. When his sight was finally returned, he grunted in shock.

The Jocelyn from his memories was standing before him, except for the wisdom and experience in her eyes. She appeared unconcerned about her nudity as she stretched like a cat waking from a nap.

Her hair was as black as night. It rose up from her forehead high above her and fell sharply down her back. Her skin was as smooth and pale as river stones. Her large breasts hung heavy on her chest and were tipped with dark nipples.

"Do you like what you see?" she teased him. 

"How did you do that?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "We have the power of creation at our fingertips. You were content to barely scratch the surface. I, on the other hand, dug deep. I simply altered my physical structure. The power of creation is a wonderful thing, don't you think?" 

"Actually, I'm disgusted to see the perversion you have--"

Jocelyn held up her hand again and silenced him. She glanced at Ashford and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How rude of me to ignore your companion! Tell me, Magi, am I beautiful?"

"As beautiful as the moon," Ashford grunted, his voice sounding raw and emotional. "And as deadly as a bolt of lightning."

Jocelyn threw back her head and laughed. "Thank you, Magi. That's a most fitting description. Perhaps I will spare your life...if you continue to amuse me."

"You should be worried about me," Jon said, his voice as cold as the winters in Devers.

Jocelyn glanced at him and smirked. "Jon, surely you can see I'm not the same Magi you knew two thousand years ago. In fact, there has never been a more powerful Magi who wasn't a true-born. I could kill you now as if you were a child."

She wasn't bragging. Jon heard unquestionable confidence in her voice. She was simply stating a fact. For the first time since Jocelyn captured him all those years ago, Jon felt truly afraid.

He felt powerless.

"If you really don't fear me, then why not release the holding spell on us both?"

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She looked at Jon and then Ashford and nodded. "Fine," she said, waving her hand. Jon felt the spell release from his body.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 19



Jocelyn turned toward the two Magi tribesman. "Dasan, you and your brother guard that one," Jocelyn said, nodding at Ashford. "I don't want your friend to lose his life trying something stupid."

Dasan and the other guard walked over to Ashford and stood closely by his side. Jon breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Jocelyn. Maybe they still had a chance.

Jocelyn smiled and walked seductively across the room. Muscles rippled in her legs and ass as she glided across the floor. She picked up a dark robe hanging on the corner of the throne and pulled it over her head. She walked back toward Jon and held out the sides of the robe, as though inviting him to inspect it.

What he saw twisted his stomach. It shouldn't have been possible. Jocelyn's robe was glowing silver from the runes that covered it. It was a very advanced protection spell; one Jon doubted he could counter.

"I didn't see you activate them," Jon said, half to himself.

"I didn't," Jocelyn laughed. Her eyes still glowed silver but that was from the spell she kept on Jon and Ashford.

"Then how?"

"How does any Magi permanently empower a spell?"

Jon took a breath to control his sudden panic. Events were spiraling past his control. He hadn't anticipated this. "With their soul...but you're not dead."

"I don't see your Shadow Dagger on you," she said suddenly. She tapped her lips thoughtfully. "It's too bad, I would have loved to see the weapon that forced me from my rightful throne."

She mentioned the dagger for a reason, Jon knew. She was telling him something. She smiled as the truth finally dawned on him. "You used the lives of other people to empower each rune," he breathed.

Jocelyn bowed her head. "Maybe your intelligence hasn't left you just yet. You should feel honored, Jon. It was your dagger that gave me the idea. It took the life of your son and not you. I knew there had to be a way to empower objects with the lives of other people."

"Where did you learn all of this?" Jon asked in shock.

Jocelyn's face darkened. "You left me no choice. You refused to join with me and rule Astuari. I had to improve, I had to get better. I needed to destroy you. So I traveled the world, looking for more power. And I found it."

Jon closed his eyes as he followed the only path in his mind that made sense. "You went to the land beyond the mountains, past this desert," he guessed.

"You know what awaits over there!" she said passionately. She rushed toward Jon and stared eagerly into his face. "You've been there. I know that's where you got that earth to make your daggers with."

"That power is not for you," he warned her.

"Who are you to deny me that?" she screamed, her eyes suddenly deranged. "You were content to watch over those sniveling Magi! You never once tried to improve upon the power you possessed! I've learn things, Jon, about our magic that would spin your head around! What do you think I've been doing these past two thousand years?"

"What have you been doing?" Jon demanded. He seized on the opportunity. "What game are you playing at? What are you trying to accomplish?"

Jocelyn didn't immediately respond. She stood in front of Jon and breathed heavily out of her nose. "Now you're interested, Jon? Why should I tell you anything?"

"Because you're dying to," Jon replied without hesitation.

"You know me too well," she whispered, her eyes darting over Jon's face. "I tried seizing the power necessary for my plans. But no matter how much I've learned, I'm still not powerful enough. That power across the mountains is still beyond my grasp. I need a weapon, Jon. I need that child."

Another puzzle piece just clicked into place. "So that's why you manipulated Reynar into taking Evelyn's child. You wish to use the child to obtain that power you speak of."

"Do you know how long I waited for this day? I've been so patient. I took extra care to plan for any possible disaster. I've been manipulating events for many years, now. I knew, when I ripped the information from you, that this child would one day be my key to godhood."

The scars on Jon's back throbbed painfully. It was more a residual pain than an actual pain, but it angered Jon all the same. He had told her everything; everything he had learned from the God.

"What I don't understand," Jon said angrily, "is why you used Reynar to do this. If you really are so powerful, why not just walk into Astuari and take the child from Evelyn?"

Jocelyn's face tightened in anger for a brief moment. She smiled and patted Jon on the face. "Why do something myself when I can just use what tools I have on hand?"

She was afraid. He didn't know how he knew that but he did. And he thought he knew why. "It was Marcus," Jon breathed slowly. "You're afraid of him. He's a true-born; he would swat you aside without effort."

"I'm not afraid of anybody!" she roared. She backhanded Jon viciously. "I could kill you right now and you couldn't stop me! I have you at my mercy!"

"No, Jocelyn," Jon said quietly. He spit the blood in his mouth on the floor and looked Jocelyn directly in the eyes. "You're under my mercy. You always have been."

Murderous rage twisted Jocelyn's face into a demonic mask. "I should kill you know just to prove you wrong!"

"Then why haven't you already?" Jon spat back. "Why am I still alive? Why are you telling me all these things?"

The murderous rage left her face so suddenly that it startled Jon. Her eyes blazed even brighter as she eagerly leaned in toward him. "I want to give you one more chance. Chose to be by my side and help me gain the power for the both of us! We can become gods, Jon! With that power, we can take on the God Himself!"

Jon stared sadly into her animated face. He shook his head. "I pity you, Jocelyn. I don't know what drives your eternal lust for power, but it saddens me. You were a good friend, once. Both Sarah and I loved you very much."

The words did their job. Jocelyn's sole attention was on Jon. Jon did his best to ignore the sudden motion behind her. He had to keep her attention.

"I told her I wanted you," she whispered. Her face looked almost human as she spoke. "I asked her not to marry you. She laughed at me. She thought I was joking with her. She never even thought I posed a challenge to her."

"That's because she knew I loved her," Jon replied. A deep sadness filled his heart. "I never looked at you that way, Jocelyn. And I'm sorry for that."

"Power is all I have left. Don't you understand? As a god, I won't have need of these mortal cares. I will truly be free. Join with me, please."

Jon shook his head. There was just no reaching her. "I'm sorry but my answer is no. I won't be with you."

Her face pinched in anger. Jon thought he saw a hint of a tear in her eye but it quickly disappeared. She drew herself up to her full height and placed her hand against his chest.

"Then you have to die," she said simply.

"But I never told you my last secret," Jon said quickly. He saw movement behind Jocelyn. He kept his eyes on her.

Jocelyn hesitated. "What secret? I tore every secret out of your body, remember?"

"I held one back. I clung to it. It kept my mind sane."

Her fingers dug cruelly into his chest. "Tell me."

"I told you that nobody could touch a Shadow Dagger, that it would cost them their life."

Jon closed his eyes as a brilliant ball of silver light erupted in front of him. He heard a gasp. He opened his eyes.

The runes on Jocelyn's robe were faded to grey. The tip of a dagger was pushing the robe out from her chest.

From over Jocelyn's shoulder, Ashford grimaced as he pulled Jon's Shadow Dagger from her back.

"I lied," Jon said, as he stared into Jocelyn's stunned eyes. She convulsed and dropped to the floor. Jon caught her before she hit and gently laid her down.

"How?" she gasped, her mouth rapidly filling with blood.

"You always did underestimate my son," Jon replied quietly. "It looks like my dagger was greater than any protection spell you could cast."

Jocelyn laughed grimly, the blood in her mouth spraying across her face. "I...still...win...Reynar will..."

"What's his plan?" Jon asked urgently. "What will he do with Evelyn's child?"

"You...know..." Jocelyn gasped. Her body shuddered and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head.

She was dead.

Jon closed her eyes gently and stood up. "Thanks, Ashford."

Ashford stared sadly down at Jocelyn. "She was so focused on you that she didn't even hear me take out her guards." As he spoke, Ashford wrapped up Jon's dagger in the black cloth he kept it in and handed it back to Jon.

"Her lust for power and her obsession were always her fatal flaw," Jon replied. He turned away from her body, from the last person who had known his wife and son, and began to walk back to the entrance.

"What do we do now?" Ashford asked. He looked stunned, as though he never really believed he would survive.

"We grab all the mounted tribesman and ride hard for Astuari," Jon replied. "We have to make it back before Evelyn gives birth."

"What did she mean about Reynar? What do you know?"

"She gave us enough hints to guess her ultimate plan." Jon stopped and turned to face Ashford. "I know what Reynar is going to do."

***

Reynar paced his study. He wanted nothing more than to march into Evelyn's bedchamber and hold her tight. He wanted one night of peaceful sleep. He was weary beyond comprehension.

But she suspected him now. He saw it in her face. She knew he was planning something. And now she would never trust him. He would never get to hold that beautiful woman in his arms.

"Damn you, Jon Laurent," Reynar hissed. He stopped at his desk and leaned his hands down on it. "I wish you had never been born. I wish none of these responsibilities had ever come upon me. I wish I still had my friends."

He stared down at his desk, unseeing. In his mind, he only saw Jon's smirking face as images of his past flew by. He was left with only the bitter ones, now. All the sacrifices he had made to get to this point. Those were the memories left to him.

"And one more sacrifice," Reynar whispered.

The plain wooden box that haunted his dreams was sitting innocently on the desk between his hands. He reluctantly ran his hand across the lid and pushed it open. He had to remind himself every night of the sacrifice Jon Laurent had forced on him.

He pushed the lid as far back as it could go and simply stared down into the box. He had never touched it before. He didn't think he would have the courage to. But now he knew he would have to take it out, to feel every grain on its surface. Otherwise, he knew he wouldn't have the courage to use it when the time came.

Hands shaking, he reached down into the box and gingerly grasped the Shadow Dagger by the handle and lifted it out.

The runes carved on the dark blade were dull and lifeless. But soon, he knew, they would hold the soul of a god.

***

This was just part 1 of the finale. Chapter 20, the last chapter, should be out soon. Let me know what you think is going to happen. And, as always, thanks for reading! I hope the finale doesn't disappoint.

Chapter 20 - The fate of Jon & Company is revealed. Nobody is safe.



Shadow Dagger Ch. 20



With no further delay, after 1 year, 3 months, and 15 days, I present to you, the finale of Shadow Dagger.

***

"Something's wrong," Ashford whispered, as he peered around the corner of the hallway. "We're almost back to the entrance and we haven't seen anybody. Where are the servants? Where's that guide that led us here? Where are the guards?"

"I don't know," Jon replied. He turned the corner and continued walking toward the entrance. He, too, sensed something amiss. He had a bad feeling that they were about to find out.

They turned the corner of another hallway and finally spied the entrance doors. "Thank the God," Ashford breathed.

Jon held out his hand to stop Ashford. "Be careful," he whispered. "Be ready to use your magic at a moment's notice."

Ashford nodded and they continued toward the doors. Jon held his hand over his eyes as they emerged into the baking sunlight.

They walked straight into complete and utter chaos.

Screams of pain and rage sounded through the city as warriors swarmed everyone Jon could see. He prepared to take hold of his magic but they didn't seem to be in danger yet.

"My God," Ashford whispered, as he took in the sight that greeted him.

Across the street, Jon saw two warriors grab what looked to be a normal citizen of Oasis by the arms. A third warrior plunged his sword straight through the man's chest. The warriors tossed the body aside and ran down another fleeing citizen.

"Chieftain!"

Jon turned toward the voice. One of his new lieutenants was struggling through a mass of people to get to him. He casually swatted aside a sword and plunged his own sword in and out of the warrior's neck. He ran up the stairs to the palace and stopped before Jon.

"What is this?" Jon demanded.

"Chieftain, when you went inside the tribesman of the Cheetah started attacking! And what's more, they had Magi with them!" The man's eyes were wide with fear and shock. The fact that it was on the face of a Raves warrior was very unsettling.

Jon rubbed his chin. "What's your name again?"

"Telez," the man panted. He looked around at the carnage in the city and shook his head. "I can't believe it. I can't..."

"The goddess was a Magi," Jon told him, struck by a sudden moment of inspiration. The situation around him had provided him the perfect cover story. "So are several of her people. The Cheetah wasn't the only tribe to attack, were they?"

Telez's mouth gaped in shock to hear that his goddess was a Magi. Then his eyes narrowed in anger and he spat to the side. "No, Chieftain. After the Cheetah starting attacking, members of each tribe join them. We were almost overrun at the start by the sudden appearance of Magi in our midst."

"Almost overrun?"

"Yes, Chieftain." Telez grimaced and spat to the side again. "I'm not so proud to admit we would have been quickly put down if the Cheetah's own tribesman didn't turn against them."

That opened Jon's eyes in surprise. "The tribesman who stared at us blankly when we walked in?"

Telez nodded. "They ran into their houses when the fighting started. It wasn't until just a few minutes ago that they poured out of their houses, wielding weapons and screaming like demons. I still can't believe what I saw."

"A few minutes ago," Ashford whispered by Jon's ear. "Just when the goddess died."

Jon nodded. "What's our situation, Telez?"

"We just about have them put down, Chieftain. They're falling back to the base of the cliff."

Jon gestured to the bodies on the ground nearby. "Some of those bodies look like the tribesman you described as helping us out."

Telez shifted uncomfortably. He glanced up at Jon's face and looked away quickly. "The men may have gotten carried with the purge," Telez admitted.

Jon took a step toward him. He kept his voice cool and under control. "I hope the men will soon come to their senses," Jon said quietly.

Telez nodded quickly. "Yes, Chieftain." He turned to leave but Jon grabbed his arm.

"The Magi have infiltrated Raves in preparation for this moment," Jon said. He let his anger enter his voice. "They used me as a pawn to unite the tribesman so they could all be slaughtered at once."

"They infiltrated us?" Telez repeated, shaking his head. "Why?"

Just then, a group of warriors broke off from the fighting and charged up the stairs toward them. One man in front had silver eyes. He raised his hand and started weaving his fingers in the air.

Jon had no choice but to embrace his magic. If anybody saw him, he would just have to fight his way out of the city. Luckily, he was spared that as a sword suddenly burst out of the man's chest.

Jon saw more of his lieutenants swarm around the attacking group. They quickly put down every warrior among them.

"Chieftain!" Several of them waived their swords in the air and roared their defiance.

"Gather all the lieutenants," Jon ordered Telez. "Have them grab their horses and all of their supplies. And give the command to stop killing the tribesman."

"Yes, Chieftain," Telez answered. He jumped down the stairs and ran toward the group waiving their swords.

"What are you planning?" Ashford asked, stepping up next to Jon.

"We need to get to Astuari as quickly as possible," Jon replied. He motioned Ashford to follow him. He hurried down the steps and sidestepped the bodies littering the street. "I'm taking my lieutenants with me. Five hundred warriors will come in handy."

"That's going to take a while," Ashford said. "We can't use magic to speed up the horses. Not even you could maintain that spell for long."

Jon stopped walking and turned toward Ashford. "That's why I need you to go ahead of us."

Ashford sighed. "I thought you were going to say that. Jon, we both know it's you that needs to go. I'm nowhere near as powerful as you. You won't make it in time with your lieutenants following."

Jon reached out and gripped Ashford's shoulder. "The men would never follow you, Ashford. I have to lead them. I will push the horses as hard as I can. I will make it on time."

Ashford finally nodded and then smiled. "Is there any message in particular you want me to deliver when I make it back?"

Jon took his hand off Ashford's shoulder and looked away. The square around the palace was now eerily quiet. He could hear the sound of battle growing more distant.

"Just make sure Sophina knows what Reynar is planning to do," Jon said quietly. "Hopefully, everything has gone smooth on her end. She should be waiting with Peron's mercenaries. And if Evelyn gives birth before I make it back, make sure she knows what she has to do."

Ashford stepped close to Jon and gripped his shoulder in turn. "Is there anything else you want me to relay?"

Jon turned to look at Ashford's face. He smiled. "That's none of your business."

Ashford chuckled. "Have it your way."

"You're my friend," Jon said suddenly, before Ashford turned away. "I don't know if you know that or not. But you have become one of the first true friends I have had in many years."

Ashford blinked several times before turning his head. "And you're my friend," he said, gruffly. "For someone who has lost all of his friends recently..."

"Say no more," Jon said. He grabbed Ashford's hand and squeezed. "The God be with you, Ashford."

"And you, Jon."

Ashford squeezed Jon's shoulder one last time and walked away. He stopped suddenly and turned to look back at Jon. "Don't tell Istas I left until long after I'm gone, okay?"

Jon struggled not to grin. "Sure," he said. He wasn't quite able to hold back the laugher in his voice.

Ashford mumbled under his breath and began walking away. Telez and the other lieutenants were riding toward them, leading Jon and Ashford's horses.

Jon would have given anything at that moment to know for certain that he would see Ashford again.

***

Evelyn sat quietly by the window in her bedroom and stared wistfully at the lazy blue sky. She wished she could be outside enjoying the beautiful weather. She patted her bulging stomach and sighed.

In less than a month's time, I went from barely a bump to a full blown pregnancy. What is this child?

Evelyn shook her head. Nothing made sense anymore. She had barely started getting use to the idea that she was pregnant before swelling up over the past few weeks. The child seemed to be in an awful hurry to leave her womb.

Something's coming, Evelyn thought worriedly. Somehow, her child could sense it. She couldn't deny it anymore; her unborn child was aware of the outside world. It frightened her like nothing else ever had.

And I can't even properly use magic anymore! This pregnancy has made that all but impossible. What am I to do if I'm attacked?

A knock sounded lightly on the door. Evelyn was grateful to pull her attention away from her constant worries. "Yes?"

"It's Eve, Your Grace."

"Come in," Evelyn said excitedly. She had almost forgotten the assignment she had given her new handmaiden.

Eve stepped slowly into the room. She shut the door quietly behind her and dropped a quick curtsy. "Do you have a moment, Your Grace?" she asked shyly.

Evelyn waved her over. "Of course, child! Please, have a seat."

Eve approached warily and slowly sat down on the edge of her chair. She clasped her hands together on the table and looked up reverently at Evelyn. "I've done as Your Grace requested."

Evelyn leaned forward eagerly. "What did you find out?"

Eve opened her mouth and then hesitated. "Your Grace, I...I don't understand why you wanted me to spy on your husband's activities. Surely, you could have asked the King himself?"

"The King thinks I'm too delicate right now to burden with any information," Evelyn said quickly. The lie came easily to her. "I'm not as weak as that, am I Eve?"

Eve's eyes widened in surprise. "Of course not, Your Grace! Your Grace is the strongest and most capable woman Astuari has ever known!"

Evelyn blushed slightly at the compliment. "Please, Eve, when we're alone call me Evelyn. 'Your Grace' is too much of a mouthful."

It was Eve's turn to blush. "If Your...you wish it, my lady."

Evelyn smiled. "Now, tell me what the King has been up to."

"Well, Your--Evelyn, sorry--the King has been meeting frequently with the Council. When he's not with them, he patrols the palace walls and speaks to the soldiers there. And when's he not there, he's usually in his study."

"That's it?" Evelyn asked, not quite able to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Eve nodded. "Oh yes, my lady. He's a very busy man. Don't worry, though, I'm sure once the war with the Magi Victus is over he will have more time for you and the baby."

Evelyn nodded absently. She smoothed the flowing robe over her stomach. Reynar had been able to supply her with a wardrobe that carefully kept her now large bump from casual notice. Just the thought that she would have to keep up the deception for several more months wearied her.

"Did you hear anything the King said?" Evelyn asked hopefully.

But Eve shook her head. "No, my lady. I'm not allowed to be in the Council meetings or on the palace walls. The only place I heard the King speak was in his study and that was just because I brought his lunch."

"You brought his lunch?" Evelyn asked, perking up.

Eve smiled shyly. "Yes, my lady. I stopped the servant he usually has bring up the food and told him that I will take it for him. I figured Your Grace would want me to try my best to know what the King is doing."

"Very clever, Eve! What did he say?" Evelyn asked, her excitement rising once again.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I didn't hear much," Eve said, hanging her head. "He was talking to his manservant Sereph when I walked in. I heard something about a duty he has to perform. They stopped talking when I came in."

Evelyn slumped back against her chair. She had been so sure Reynar was up to something. She knew her child was trying to tell her something; that was why she always felt uneasy around him. He was hiding something, she just knew it. At least, she thought she knew it. Maybe the unease was a side effect of this strange pregnancy.

"That's all?" Evelyn asked absently. She shook her head and sighed. Maybe the pregnancy really was getting to her. Who knew what having a child like this did to its mother. There wasn't exactly a precedent for it.

"They just watched me the whole time I laid out the food," Eve said, sounding as despondent as Evelyn. "Well, Sereph was writing away with his quill. Reynar just stood by his desk and watched me, like he was lost in thought. He just kept stroking this wooden box with his hand. It was very unsettling, my lady."

Evelyn nodded, only half-listening to the words. She blinked suddenly and looked over at Eve. "I'm sorry, what did you say about a box?"

Eve looked taken aback by Evelyn's sudden interest. "Nothing, my lady. I just got those bumps on my arms from the way he was looking at me, is all. He just stared at me and ran his hand over this box on his desk. I was happy to finally get out of there, my lady."

"I've never seen this box," Evelyn whispered. She shook her head. What was she thinking? She was looking for a mystery anywhere she could find it. There was nothing strange about a wooden box.

"Is Your--my lady, okay?" Eve asked in concern.

Evelyn brought her attention back to the present. "I'm fine, Eve. I think this baby is making me empty-headed. Can you go downstairs and prepare a good lunch? Make yourself a plate, too."

"Of course, Your Grace," Eve said, reverting back to formality. She stood up and curtsied. "Lunch will be brought up shortly."

Evelyn waited until the door was closed before heaving herself out of the seat. She wished this pregnancy really would end soon. She walked gingerly toward the door and pulled it open.

The hallway outside was deserted. Reynar tried to have guards posted by her door but Evelyn didn't want to subject the poor men to that onerous duty. As a comprise, Reynar stationed guards at the entrance to this wing of the palace and rotated them periodically, so that they wouldn't get bored.

Evelyn waddled down the hallway as fast as she could. It was good to finally get up and stretch her legs. The sudden blooming of her pregnancy had necessitated long hours spent alone in her chambers. The fewer people that saw her the better.

It took her ten minutes longer than usual to make her way to Reynar's personal study. Here, in this section of the palace, she found many guards.

"Is the King in his study?" Evelyn asked one of the guards standing by the door to Reynar's study.

"No, Your Grace. The King is currently meeting with the Council."

"I think I'm going to wait for him here," Evelyn said. She attempted to open the door but the guard stepped in front of her.

"Your Grace, the King instructed me that nobody is allowed in his study when he is not in attendance."

Evelyn arched her eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her chest impatiently. "Do you seriously think, soldier, that the King meant me? His wife and your queen?"

The man looked down at her and struggled to find words. "Your Grace...I..."

"That's what I thought," Evelyn said. She pushed the guard aside and opened the door. The guard didn't stop her. Smiling, Evelyn shut the door firmly.

She looked around the study to make sure that it really was deserted. The door to the dinner room where she had first feasted with Reynar was closed. Assured that she was alone, Evelyn walked carefully over to Reynar's desk.

She instantly spotted the box that Eve had referred to. It seemed to be an ordinary, if old, piece of wood. It sat innocently on the corner of the desk. Evelyn ran her hand across it and discovered the hinges on the side. She checked the other side and found the latch. Smiling to herself, Evelyn began the lift the lid.

"Your Grace, what a surprise!"

Evelyn yelped and spun around. Reynar's manservant, Sereph, closed the dinner room door and walked over to her.

Evelyn flushed guiltily when she saw Sereph's eyes flicker to the box. "Sereph, I didn't know you were here."

Sereph smiled and bowed low. "The King sent me back to fetch some documents. I took the liberty to clean up the King's breakfast while I was at it. What brings Your Grace here?"

Evelyn glanced aside and thought furiously. "I...uh...just wanted to see if my husband was here."

"Indeed," Sereph said pleasantly. His eyes flashed to the box again. "The King will be delighted to hear that. He's been most anxious to settle in with you, Your Grace."

"As have I," Evelyn said, though she was sure Sereph could hear the squeak in her voice. She decided there was no getting around what she was doing. "When I didn't see him, I thought I would wait for him here. This box caught my eye."

"Was it the gaudy ornamentation that caught your eye?" Sereph asked. For an instance, his smile seemed frozen on his face and his eyes flashed dangerously.

"N-no, of course not," Evelyn stammered. She took a step back. "It just seemed out of place."

"Ah," Sereph said. He took a step closer to Evelyn. "Curiosity got the better of you, I imagine."

"I guess so," Evelyn said. She swallowed. "Any--any idea when the King will return?"

Sereph glanced down at the box and ran his hand over the aged wood. "The King won't be back for hours," Sereph said quietly, his eyes never leaving the box.

"Well, I suppose I will return to my chambers then," Evelyn said lightly. 

She turned to leave when Sereph's arm shot out and grabbed her wrist. "Surely, Your Grace would like to see what's in this box, yes?"

"Sereph!" Evelyn yelled, as she tried to pull her hand free. "You're hurting me!"

Evelyn's stomach pinched suddenly. She winced in pain as Sereph snatched his hand off of her arm with a pained yelp. "What in the nine hells was that?" he demanded.

Evelyn stumbled back and hit a chair. "I-I don't know. Please, I want to go back to my chambers."

Sereph rubbed his hand and looked at Evelyn curiously. "The time is almost here, Your Grace," he said. His voice almost sounded lustful. Then he smiled and nodded toward her stomach. "For the birth, I mean."

"Yes, I suppose," Evelyn said. She moved away from the chair and backed further away. "I will be leaving now."

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," Sereph said, his attention once again directed to the box on Reynar's desk. "I will let the King know you were looking for him."

"Thank you," Evelyn whispered. She turned and pulled open the door.

Before this afternoon, she had had her doubts. But now she knew for certain; she should have never left Sophina to join with Reynar.

***

"Marcus?"

Sophina knocked once and slowly pushed the door open. "Marcus?" she called again.

Silence. Sophina stepped carefully into the room and looked around. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Marcus sitting in the chair by the bed. The book on the table next to him hadn't moved an inch since Sophina first brought it to him.

"Is everything alright?"

Again, only silence answered her. She didn't know if Marcus was asleep or awake. She gripped her sword tight for reassurance and advanced further into the room. She doubted her sword could stop Marcus' spells, but the familiar feel of it comforted her.

"Are you awake?" Sophina asked, trying once again to engage Marcus in conversation. The last week had been a complete failure for her. She didn't have the courage to spend any considerable amount of time trying to get Marcus to respond.

"I'll leave you alone, then," Sophina said, after several tense moments passed by. She turned to leave.

I'll try again tomorrow. We still have time.

The thought no longer comforted her. She knew their time was almost up. Evelyn could give birth any day now.

"What do you want?"

Marcus' quiet voice stopped her cold in her tracks. She gripped her sword tighter and turned back around. "I just wanted to talk."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 20



"Speak."

His sentences were shorter than ever, but it was better than nothing. "I just wanted to see how you're doing. Do you need anything?"

Marcus blinked. He looked up at her and cocked his head sideways, as though he had no idea who or what she was. "When is this?"

The question sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't know why, but Marcus was really scaring her right now. "When is this? Do you mean what day?"

He shook his head. He still regarded her with curiosity. "Is it time to attack the gate yet? Have I already done that?"

Sophina breathed out slowly and loosened the grip on her sword. 

That poor man, he suffers for us. I wish this could be over already. I wish he could find peace.

Marcus was starting to resemble the beggar he once was when Sophina first met him. His long brown hair was untidy and he had almost a month's worth of beard on his handsome face. His eyes, once as calm and blue as the ocean, were almost colorless and devoid of life.

"No, Marcus, we haven't attacked the gate yet. Are you--are you still okay with that plan? Will you still help us?"

He seemed to have lost interest in her. His eyes slowly glanced away, as though bored. He looked around the small bedroom with a strange smile on his face.

"Not much longer now," he whispered.

"No, not much longer. Peron should be giving the signal any day now." Sophina tried to sound as cheerful as she could.

Marcus' eyes swiveled back toward her. She felt her heart stutter in her chest. His movements were eerie, as though he wasn't used to moving his body. She tensed, ready at any sign to whip out her sword and defend herself.

Marcus, however, just smiled that strange smile. "You worry too much. Soon, there will be nothing to worry about. The world will go back to the way it was meant to be."

The words sounded comforting, but they only served to frighten Sophina more. 

The way he said them...as though they have a different meaning.

"So...you'll be ready when the time comes?" Sophina asked the question as she slowly backed towards the door. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the room.

"Will you?" he asked her, the strange smile still on his lips.

Sophina gasped as she bumped into the wall. She cursed quietly for acting like such a coward, but that didn't stop her from hurriedly opening the door.

"Where's Jon?"

Sophina paused. Marcus' voice sounded almost normal. She looked back at him. Her looked at her intently. She could see sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes...his eyes were a soft blue. Did his eyes really change colors?

"I don't know," she admitted. She rested her head against the doorframe and sighed. "I don't know."

"He needs to hurry," Marcus said, his voice urgent.

"Yes...he does." Sophina never agreed with anything more in her life. She needed Jon; she needed her mentor. She was so very tired. She couldn't last much longer.

She shook her head against the doorframe as her mind raced. Where was Jon? What was taking him so long? Her thoughts were interrupted as she realized that she was staring at a stain on the floor, right by the doorframe. It looked to be a large, brown stain.

Her gaze rose up the wall, following the trail of the stain. Her gaze alighted on the tea cup resting on the edge of the table next to the door. 

Tea cup? What is...wait. Isn't this--

A loud, grinding noise snapped her out of her thoughts. She knew that noise; it was the sound the false wall made when it slid across, revealing the door to Jon's hideout.

Sophina unsheathed her sword in one fluid movement and crouched into a fighting stance. "Marcus, somebody's coming."

She glanced at him. He was currently studying the wall across from him. His eyes were almost colorless once again. Cursing, Sophina moved out into the hallway. She calmed her breathing and fell into her warrior trance. She took silent steps toward the living room.

Her hand was slick with sweat but the leather on the handle of her sword absorbed it. She clenched her hand repeatedly to dry it. The leather squeaked quietly.

She stopped by the edge of the doorway leading into the living room. She could hear footsteps coming down the steps. Had somebody discovered this hideout? How? Not even their so-called allies knew about this place.

Raynolt must have betrayed us! He probably followed me one night. I knew I shouldn't have trusted him!

Sophina knelt on the ground. She laid her sword on the ground and reached down to her boot and removed the dagger hidden there. She hefted the blade in her hand and cocked her arm back.

The figure stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The fireplace was the only source of light in the living room. All Sophina could see was a dark shadow. But she knew generally where the heart would be.

She tensed her arm and took one more moment to gauge the distance.

"Hello? Sophina? Marcus?"

Sophina gasped as she let fly the dagger. She knew that voice. "No!"

Her hand twisted at the last moment. She prayed with all of her heart that it was enough.

There came a clang of metal against stone and then a startled curse. "What in the nine hells?"

"Ashford!"

Sophina stumbled across the living room, blinded by tears. She barely noticed a very startled looking Ashford before she threw her arms around him.

She laughed and cried and squeezed him tight. He was telling her something but she couldn't hear him. She didn't care. Her heart was lighter than it had been in ages.

"By the God, Sophina, calm down! I've just ridden three straight weeks! Give me a moment, okay? Shh, it's okay. It's me. It's me. Calm down. I'm here."

Sophina didn't want to let him go. In the end, she had to remind herself that she was a fierce warrior, not some weak-kneed princess. She stepped back and wiped her arm across her face.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Ashford seized her shoulders with his hands and squeezed. She looked up into his smiling face and laughed. He laughed with her.

"The God knows how I've missed you! If I wasn't such a powerful, dashing warrior, I might cry with you."

She hiccupped and slapped his chest. "You always did have an inflated opinion of yourself, Ashford," she said, mockingly.

"Dry you eyes and let me take a look at you," Ashford said happily. He stepped back and rubbed his chin.

"I must look like a sight," Sophina mumbled, embarrassed.

Ashford laughed. "If by that you mean even more beautiful, then yes, you are a sight. I see you're still letting your hair grow. At least it's blonde again."

Sophina felt her hair self-consciously. It was almost down to her shoulders now. She hadn't had hair this long since she left her family's farm.

"I just kept it short because it was more practical, you know, as a soldier."

Ashford nodded. "I like it. It suits you."

She smiled despite herself. "What else do you see?" she teased him.

His smile suddenly vanished. "I see how tired you are," he said somberly. "You look thinner, like you've been stretched out past your breaking point."

She sighed. "I guess we have to trade stories now, huh?"

Ashford nodded. "Let's sit down."

They walked over to the chairs by the fire and settled in slowly. Ashford poured them both glasses of wine from the pitcher on the table. He handed Sophina her glass and then slumped back in his chair.

"You look tired, too," she noted. His hair was longer now than it was when he left and he had a good growth of bread on his face. His clothes were covered in dust and grime. He really must have ridden three weeks straight.

"You have no idea," he sighed. "Sophina, what in the nine hells is going on? Why are there so many soldiers on the wall? I was fortunate to find a secluded spot where I could deactivate the runes and climb over. And then getting through the city took even more luck! Where did these soldiers come from?"

"I don't even know where to begin," Sophina said, shaking her head. "I--wait, where's Jon?" she asked suddenly. She had been so happy to see Ashford that she didn't realize Jon wasn't with him. Sudden fear made her grip the arms of her chair hard.

"I guess I will go first," Ashford chuckled. "Jon made me ride ahead to get here in time." Sophina sighed in relief and relaxed her body.

Ashford, however, suddenly bolted upright in his seat. The wine in his glass slopped over the rim and splashed against his clothes. "Sophina, please tell me Evelyn hasn't given birth yet!"

"No, no!" she said hurriedly. "Not yet. At least, there hasn't been any indication she has. We have spies watching the palace at all times."

Ashford slumped back into his seat and laughed weakly. "Thank the God."

"She's suppose to give birth any day now, right?"

"That's what Jon says," Ashford said, his eyes still closed. "He said these pregnancies only take three months. God, has it already been three months? So much has happened."

"Same here," Sophina whispered. "But I believe you said you will go first."

"We did it, Sophina. Jon united the tribes and forced a meeting with the goddess. That part went pretty smoothly."

"Then what took you two so long?" she burst out, the question unable to stay quiet in her mind.

"I said it went smoothly, not easy," Ashford admonished her. "We had to fight nearly every tribe. And then there was the sheer size of the desert. It's not easy moving so many people across such a distance."

"So Jon united all the tribes? He met the goddess?" Sophina asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Ashford said slowly. "Listen, Sophina, this goddess was more than we thought she was. She wasn't some keeper of Jocelyn's journal; she wasJocelyn."

Sophina blinked and stared at Ashford uncomprehendingly. "Wait--what? She was Jocelyn? But--but that's impossible!"

"That's what I thought. But Jon didn't kill her, remember?" Ashford reminded her.

Sophina sat back in her chair. It was almost unbelievable. She remembered the story Jon told them. He hadn't killed her; he only banished her.

"By the God," she whispered, shaking her head. "What happened?"

"She was powerful, Sophina," Ashford said quietly. He was staring intently into the fireplace, as though still witnessing that moment. "More powerful than Jon. She could have easily killed us."

"More powerful than Jon? But...how did you manage to get out of there?"

"In the end, her pride was her undoing. She toyed with us, toyed with Jon. She wanted him to join her." Ashford snorted. "As if Jon would suddenly decide to do that. So she decided to kill us. But she hadn't counted on one thing..."

"What?" Sophina demanded, when Ashford lapsed into silence.

Ashford smiled teasingly at her. Sophina swatted him across the arm and he laughed. "Okay, okay. It was Jon's Shadow Dagger. Sophina, I killed her with the Shadow Dagger!"

"But nobody but a Magi Victus can touch one!" Sophina yelped. Was he still teasing her?

"What better way to keep a Magi from trying to take one? It was just a lie. Jon gave me his dagger before we met her and she turned her back on me. So I stabbed her."

"Quite a story," Sophina breathed. She knew that was a complete understatement. She had never heard a more unbelievable story in all her life. "But...where's Jon?"

Ashford put his glass of wine down on the table and leaned toward Sophina. "He sent me ahead because he's bringing all the horsemen he can. And he wanted me to warn you. Sophina, we know now what Reynar's planning to do."

Sophina sat in stunned silence as Ashford finished his tale.

***

Raynolt grimaced as an arrow dissolved against his protection spell. Maybe I let my impatience get the better of me, he thought, as another arrow came streaking at him.

Restlessness had overcome him. The meetings down in the sewer had become pointless. There was nothing they could do until Peron returned with his men. Not even the sudden appearance of Ashford Caulston was enough to satisfy him.

That man was too smug for an inferior, Raynolt thought, as he weaved a spell of lightning and shot it at the archer. The archer ducked behind the corner of a building. The lightning bolt shatter the stone where his face was at a moment before.

Ashford Caulston had taken it upon himself to become their de facto leader. Sophina Crews looked more than happy to hand the reigns to him. After learning about their current situation, Ashford didn't have any worthwhile information to add. Everything hinged on that damn Raves barbarian.

Still, he was hiding something, Raynolt felt. Ashford and Sophina probably didn't think he noticed the subtle looks they would cast each other when the subject of Reynar came up. If Raynolt was a gambling man, he would gamble that Ashford knew what Reynar was up to.

So, after another pointless week of planning and bickering, Raynolt decided to accompany one of the patrols. He needed a good fight to get the frustration out of his system. Their attempts at thinning Reynar's numbers were pathetic, but at least some people were actually doing something.

The archer peaked around the corner again and shot another arrow. Why did the idiot insist on focusing on him? He knew his arrows couldn't do anything against his protection spell.

Unfortunately, Raynolt's unit was too busy fighting a host of other soldiers. He joined a group of ten of Peron's men. They were what was left of the force he had with him in the city. 

He brought no other Magi with him, as he was more than enough for simple soldiers. However, he couldn't cast a spell without the possibility of hitting his own men. He considered it for a moment anyways but decided he still needed an escort back, just in case.

He shot another bolt of lightning at the archer. Another large section of the building was blasted away. Bored, Raynolt scanned the rest of the fight, looking for stragglers.

Suddenly, without warning, the opposing soldiers broke away from the fighting and sprinted into nearby alleys. Stupefied, Raynolt's men looked back at him.

They never saw the gigantic fireball that incinerated them. Raynolt gasped and hurriedly called up his 10th protection spell. He had been maintaining a 3rd Tier spell because it required very little energy.

The runes covered his body at the last possible moment. The gigantic fireball engulfed him and flew past him, exploding against the wall of a nearby building.

Raynolt coughed out the smoke in his lungs and wiped his stinging eyes. He never did learn how to keep smoke away from him. He looked up and prepared a 10th Tier spell that would shoot out several arrows of fire.

Three Magi materialized out of the shadows of a nearby alleyway. They stepped through the ash that had been Peron's men without a glance. Raynolt knew all three of those Magi. Two were unimportant 7th Tier Magi.

The last one was Lenard.

"You!" Raynolt gasped.

Lenard smiled and the other two Magi chuckled. "Seems like it's our lucky day," one of the 7th Tier Magi said. Raynolt couldn't place his name at the moment.

"The great Raynolt Teryus," the other one sneered. "How I wished I would be in the group that captured you."

Lenard said nothing. Raynolt glared at him. "If Reynar wanted me captured, he shouldn't have sent weaklings like you."

The Magi who had spoken first growled. He brushed the dark hair out of his eyes and gave Raynolt his best glare. "Weaklings that nearly killed you, Raynolt. Remember that."

"Nearly," Raynolt sneered. "Nearly counts for nothing in the game of life. Remember that, if you live long enough."

The other 7th Tier Magi, a short man with gray hair, held up his hand. "Enough of this posturing. Lenard, as the highest ranking member here, the choice is yours. Dead or alive?"

"Oh, most certainly alive," Lenard said. The tall red-headed man glanced at his companions. "King Reynar would be greatly pleased if we brought this one in alive."

"Screw Reynar," the dark-haired Magi spat. "We should bring him to Grand Master Sura. She will give us the proper reward."

"Assuming, of course, that you can bring me in," Raynolt said calmly. Three against one weren't good odds but Lenard was only 8th Tier. He was confident he could take all three.

"Oh, I'm sure we can," Lenard said quietly. And then he winked at Raynolt.

Raynolt's jaw almost dropped. But he recovered himself in time to hide his surprise. "Then let's begin," Raynolt said.

He finished the arrows of flame spell in his mind and stuck out his hand. The other two Magi had been prepared. They already sent runes of binding at him. Raynolt understood why Reynar sent these Magi out; their binding spells were of the 10th Tier.

The two spells combined would have been enough to bypass his protection spell to bind him. But they didn't count on Lenard turning to them and casting two counter-protection spells. The two Magi gasped in surprise when their protection spells suddenly faded.

Raynolt's spell flashed on his palm. Several arrows of flame shot through each Magi repeatedly. Their bodies were hurled through the air and landed with a dull thud several yards away. Smoke slowly rose from the holes in their chests.

"Well played," Raynolt said. He bowed to Lenard in acknowledgment.

Lenard smiled. "I've been hoping to run into you for a long time now. Tonight was my lucky night."

"What happened that night at the Emporium?"

"Reynar's Magi found me and healed me. They assumed I took my wound fighting you. I...didn't correct them."

Raynolt laughed. "You were always very crafty, my dear Lenard."

"If you think that was crafty, wait until I tell you about my position with Reynar. He has taken me under his wing after my valiant attempt to stop you during the attack at the Emporium. I'm privy to some very important secrets."

"Is that right?" Raynolt mused. He motioned Lenard to follow him. "It wouldn't be good for you if another patrol wondered by and spotted us. Let's get back to the sewers before we're caught."

"The sewers?" Lenard asked. "That's where you've been hiding?"

Raynolt turned back toward Lenard. There was something strange in his voice. "Yes, but don't get me started on that. It's insulting, but what can--"

The world lurched beneath Raynolt's feet. It felt as though a giant stone had just smashed into his head. He stumbled to his knees and tried to orient himself. Another blow blasted his skull.

The stars were shining down at him in the clear night sky. They twinkled, as though winking mockingly at him. How he hated the stars.

A shadow loomed over him. He blinked. The shadow was blocking his view of the hated stars. "How rude," he mumbled.

"Thanks for everything, Raynolt," the shadow said, his voice painfully loud. Didn't he know that the stars had ears? He didn't need to shout. Raynolt's vision suddenly swam before his eyes. 

It looked like runes were forming above him. But that wasn't right; the ancient language of creation couldn't suddenly appear in the air, could it? How could words and symbols materialize in thin air?

The language of God is in everything, a voice said in his head. He knew that voice.

"Master?" he asked. His tutor had been the first one to show Raynolt how to write in the air.

"I am now," the shadow said. 

The runes whirled and settled into place. Raynolt knew what those runes represented; those were the words to form air in the shape of a mallet. But wasn't he protected by a 10th Tier protection spell?

The mallet of air rushed toward him and Raynolt knew only darkness without stars.

Good. I hate stars.

***

"How much longer?" Reynar asked.

Sereph looked down at his notes. "According to various medical journals, I would say she's due any time now. Are you sure you don't want a midwife to examine her?"

"No, I don't want a midwife to examine her!" Reynar roared. "I don't want another body on my hands!"




Shadow Dagger Ch. 20



"I don't know much about delivering babies," Sereph said, in that insufferable manner of his.

"So you want me to sacrifice another life to protect our secret, is that it?"

"It's just a suggestion," Sereph said absently, as he studied his notes. "What's one more sacrifice?"

Reynar stared at his loyal manservant. Had he really know him at all? He had been too lenient for all these years. It was just another failing that plagued Reynar's soul. "Are you really so callous toward life, Sereph?"

"On the contrary, my liege, I treasure life. Why do you think I'm helping you do this? I believe in what we're doing. I believe taking this child's power will save the world. Don't you?"

Reynar turned away and ran his hand through his hair. What did he believe? It was easy at first. The life of an unknown child against the world? It wasn't that hard of a decision. The mother and the child were just abstract concepts.

But now the mother had a face. A face Reynar loved. Which meant he loved the child, by extension. But if he continued ahead with his plan, he would lose them both. Was love worth sacrificing the world?

"My liege?" Sereph asked.

Reynar shook his head. "I don't know anymore, Sereph. We're doing this based on what a long-dead Magi told us to do. How can I believe anything that old woman told me? How do I know Jocelyn's journal is accurate?"

"You have to keep your faith," Sereph implored him. "You know what kind of man Jon Laurent is. You know he wants to bring back the War of the Gods. This child can't be allowed to live!"

"Who are we to judge that?"

"We are the loyal servants of the God!" Sereph cried. His eyes blazed with his passion. "You know the God had the True-born destroyed! That was why he forbade the Order of the 12 from mating with each other! Only their children were allowed to mate with each other. This child is an abomination, my liege."

"We don't know that," Reynar whispered, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.

Sereph continued in a more gentle voice. "My liege, I don't dismiss the burden this has placed on you. But we both know it has to be done. The child won't have died for nothing. We will use its power to stop Jon Laurent and to remake the world the way the God wants it."

Reynar sighed in defeat. "You're right, Sereph. You're right." 

Sereph had only reiterated the same things Reynar whispered to himself at night. He couldn't allow Jon Laurent to raise another false god. That's why everyone used the term 'The God,' instead of just 'God.'

He would do what had to be done.

An urgent knock came at the door. "My liege!"

Reynar strode quickly to the door and whipped it open. "What is it?"

"The Magi Lenard has returned," the guardsmen said excitedly. "He has Raynolt Teryus in custody!"

"Excellent!" Reynar boomed. It was the first good news he had heard in a long time. "Lead me to him."

"Right away, my liege!"

Reynar matched the guardsmen's excited strides as he quickly took him down into the lower levels of the palace. Several Magi stationed in the palace glanced curiously at them as they passed.

"We captured Raynolt," Reynar would tell them. The Magi would burst into smiles and talk excitedly to each other.

The word must have spread quickly because the Magi Reynar passed on last few floors bowed low to him and gave him pleased smiles. Reynar couldn't help but smile back.

God, it feels good to actually smile again! Thank you, Raynolt. This was the first pleasurable thing you ever did for me.

The guard led him at last into the dungeon holding cells. Here in the palace, the holding cells were nothing like the dungeons in the city. These holding cells were quite large and quite clean.

Several Magi were grouped around one such cell and were peering inside the room. They stepped back hurriedly when they heard Reynar approaching. Reynar approached the holding cell, his heart beating rapidly in excitement.

Lenard greeted him at the door. "My liege, I ran into Raynolt on my patrol. I convinced him I was still on his side. He revealed the location of their hideout so I thought it prudent to knock him unconscious and bring him back here so you could interrogate him yourself."

"You did very well, Lenard," Reynar replied. "I will see you promoted to the 9th Tier for this."

"Thank you, my liege." He bowed low. "Raynolt is still unconscious. He did reveal, however, that he was hiding out in the sewers."

"The sewers," Reynar mused. "We should've know. It was the only place we didn't check."

Reynar stepped passed Lenard and walked into the holding cell. Raynolt was sitting on a cot, his arms chained to the wall behind him. His head was slumped on his chest. Spells of binding were wrapped tight around his body.

"Wake him," Reynar commanded.

A Magi hurried into the room. He laid a small but complex healing spell on Raynolt's head. It took several moments for Raynolt to come around. He blinked slowly and looked up at Reynar.

"What..."

"Raynolt, I'm disappointed," Reynar said coldly. "I told you the price of betraying me. And still you did it."

Raynolt shook his head. His eyes cleared up and he finally took in his surroundings. He jerked several times at his chains but the binding spells held him tight. He looked up in fear at Reynar.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

Reynar crouched down to be on eye level with Raynolt. "How it must eat at you to know you've been outwitted."

Raynolt glanced toward the doorway. "You will pay," he growled.

"I'm terrified," came Lenard's lazy response.

Raynolt turned his gaze back toward Reynar. "How long has Lenard been spying for you?"

Reynar smirked. "For as long as you thought he was spying for you."

"And Morgana?"

"She was yours," Reynar said somberly. "We made it look like she was the spy but you're the one who chose to kill her."

Raynolt closed his eyes and hung his head. But Reynar wasn't fooled. He knew this man cared nothing for the lives of others. He was most likely mourning the end of his plans for power.

"Do you know who you've hired?" Raynolt asked quietly. "There's a reason why Lenard makes such a good spy."

Reynar glanced over at Lenard. Lenard stared back calmly. Yes, Raynolt, I use whatever tool I can. I have no choice.

"He murdered his parents," Reynar replied. "I know this."

Raynolt opened his eyes and laughed. "Murdered his parents? Yes, but that was just the start. I stopped by the village where his parents worked as magistrates. It was shortly after the War of the Desert. Do you know what I found there?"

"Do tell," Reynar said.

Raynolt shook his head. "You obviously know. But hearing something is different from seeing something. He had the whole village enslaved. Women were raped in the middle of streets. Men were worked to exhaustion. And he was trying to raise his own army."

"And so you subdued him, and took him as your own," Reynar finished for him. "You held a great secret over him. He would make the perfect tool to do your bidding."

"Then how? How did you steal him from me?" Raynolt demanded. He was already on the verge of breaking. It wouldn't take much to get the information he needed.

"He came to me," Reynar said, shrugging. "Do you think he enjoyed being under your boot? You will never understand why you can't take power, Raynolt. You don't care about anyone beneath you. You would build your foundation on crumbling ruins."

"I'll kill you," he threatened, but in a weak and fading voice. He knew he was beaten.

"Lenard tells me that your hideout is in the sewers. But the sewers are very extensive. I need to know where exactly to find your friends."

"Why should I betray them?" Raynolt mumbled.

Reynar laughed. "Betray them? You would have to care about them first to betray them! Tell me, Raynolt, and I won't kill you. You will be imprisoned but at least you would still be alive. There's always the chance you could break out."

"They're in the sewers near the west gate," Raynolt said in a defeated voice.

Reynar stood up and strode briskly toward the door. "Watch him," he commanded Lenard.

"Are you really going to let him live?"

Reynar stopped and looked back at Raynolt. He hung limply in his chains. He was the most pathetic thing Reynar had ever seen. "Once I return, and his information was proven correct, kill him. He has plagued my plans for the last time."

Lenard smiled. "As you command, my liege."

***

Evelyn stuffed the last of her dresses in the sack and closed it tight. She slung it over her shoulder and marched toward the door.

There's no looking back. I can do this. I can do this!

She didn't know how she would make it past the guards without being seen but she couldn't stay here any longer. Reynar was up to something and she didn't want to stick around to find out what.

If only I could use my magic, she thought desperately. The baby continued to churn inside her stomach, making it all but impossible for her to hold onto her magic. It was coming soon and she needed to be gone.

She reached the door to the hallway and pulled it open.

Sereph stood in the doorway. "Good evening, Your Grace."

Evelyn stumbled back. The sack slipped from her shoulder and landed on the floor. "Sereph! What--what do you want?"

Sereph entered the room and closed the door behind him. He glanced down at the bag on the floor and shook his head in disappointment. "Evelyn, Evelyn, where do you think you're going?"

"I..." She didn't know what to say. He caught her and there was no lying her way out of it. "I've decided I no longer belong here."

"Is that so?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in surprise. "King Reynar would be very disappointed to hear that."

Evelyn felt her fear fade. Sereph's attitude only served to enrage her. She took a threatening step towards him. "I know Reynar is up to something. So either get out of my way or I will make you get out the way. Your choice."

He backhanded her across the face. Evelyn gasped in shock and pain and wheeled backwards. "Don't threaten me, Evelyn. Especially when you're just bluffing. I know you can't use your magic right now."

Evelyn wiped the blood from her lip and stared furiously at him. "How dare you strike your queen! Reynar will hear of this!"

Sereph stepped closer to her. "Reynar will be too busy to hear anything you have to say," he whispered, his voice deadly soft. "Too busy claiming the power of your child as his own."

"No!" Evelyn shouted, just as she hunched over in pain. Water splashed across the carpet.

"Speaking of which," Sereph purred, his eyes staring lustfully at the wet spot on the floor. "So it begins."

"Noooo," Evelyn gasped, too weak to even shout. She fell back.

Sereph caught her in his arms and helped her to her bed. "Stay here. I will go fetch the King."

Evelyn shook her head but she was too weak to even move. The child was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

***

"How much longer?" Ashford wondered aloud.

Sophina glanced at him and flashed him an irritated look. "For the thousandth time, Ashford, I don't know when Peron is suppose to get back. When's Jon suppose to get here?"

"I get your point," Ashford snapped. He hated waiting. He had gotten use to always being on the move with Jon. This past week back in Astuari had been torture. They needed to do something quick before it was too late.

"I've seen Evelyn," Sanje suddenly offered. "On one of my patrols, I saw her sitting by the window in her bedroom. She was very large so she is still most definitely pregnant."

"That's something," Ashford mumbled. He glanced over at Sophina. "Sorry for snapping at you."

Sophina waved his apology away. "I'm right there with you, Ashford. The only difference is I've had to deal with this for three months." She smiled to take the sting out of the words.

Ashford returned her smile and went back to studying the city map. Peron was suppose to launch fire arrows into the sky by the west gate when he was ready. Ashford had studied the west gate himself and saw how well defended it was. He just hoped Marcus was up to the challenge.

"Where is that blasted Raynolt?" Sophina suddenly demanded. "I know he thinks these meetings are a waste of time but the least he could do is show up!"

Sanje shook his head. "I don't know. The last time I saw--"

"Master Victus!"

Sanje whirled toward the open doorway. A Magi Victus had come racing into the room. "What is it?"

"Fire arrows! In the sky by the west gate!" he shouted excitedly.

Ashford clapped his hands and Sophina punched the air. "Alright, time to put the plan into action!" Sophina cried out happily. "I need to go get Marcus. Ashford, take Sanje and prepare--"

"Nobody is going anywhere," a deep voice echoed off the sewer walls.

Ashford embraced his magic but runes of binding already wrapped around him, Sophina, and Sanje. Magi poured into the small room and covered all the exits. Sophina struggled against the bonds and shouted incomprehensively.

Reynar strode into the center of the room. "Hello, Ashford."

***

Jon almost shouted in relief when the last turn of the road finally brought the city of Astuari into sight. "We're here," he breathed.

Telez growled next to him. "Time for our revenge!" The men all shouted at once and raised their swords.

They rode for a month straight with nothing but revenge to drive them. Jon feed that rage. He told them how Reynar had planted Magi all throughout the tribes for the day he finally decided to take over.

The fact that the goddess was a Magi was the final blow that allowed Jon to convince them to ride for Astuari to seek revenge. He pushed them hard and they responded. Now here they were, barely a month from Oasis and already at the gates of Astuari.

I pray I'm not too late, Jon thought fervently. If the God really was kind, he still had time. They thundered down the road and made their way toward the west gate. At this time of night, the guards wouldn't expect what was coming.

Suddenly, the sky lit up. Dozens of arrows trailing fire flew up into the air. The men behind him gasped and swore. Was the city under attack?

"I'm too late," Jon breathed. He slapped the reigns and his horse picked up even more speed.

They sped through a small village on the outskirts of the city. They were almost past the village when the road in front of them was suddenly blocked by a large line of horsemen.

"Halt, or we fire!" came a shout that rang through the night.

Jon pulled up his horse hard. Rocks flew up as Jon and his men skidded to a halt. The night was too dark to reveal who the men were. Jon embraced his magic and kicked his horse into a small trot.

"Stay back," he warned his men. They grumbled but they listened to him.

"Who goes there?" came another shout.

Jon pulled up several yards away. "I am Jon d'Thelas san Ronar, Chieftain of the Desert Tribes of Raves."

The shadowy men in front of him were eerily silent. A figure in the front kicked his horse forward and rode toward him. Jon prepared a nasty spell just in case.

The moonlight revealed the rider as he stopped in front of Jon. He was a tall man whose skin nearly blended into the night. "You're no Chieftain," the man growled.

"The five hundred men behind me would disagree with that," Jon said calmly. This man was obviously a warrior from Raves. But what was he doing out here?

The man jerked upright. "Wait...are you Jon Laurent?"

Jon cocked his head in surprise. "Who's asking?"

"Peron, Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Snake."

Jon cursed. "What in the nine hells are you doing outside the city? Aren't you suppose to be inside helping Sophina Crews?"

The man rode his horse right next to Jon. "It is you! This appears to be a miraculous night, Astuarian."

"Again, why are you out here?" Jon growled.

"Sophina sent me outside the city to gather all my men for an assault on the west gate."

Jon shook his head in confusion. What was going on? "But why weren't your men inside the city already?"

"You have missed much, Jon Laurent. Come, we already gave the signal. Join your men with mine and let's take this gate."

"Fill me in as we ride," Jon said. He turned around and signaled his men.

"As you wish," Peron replied.

***

This wasn't good. Ashford could still use his magic but Sophina and Sanje were pinned with binding spells. Ashford would be killed by the time he got off a spell.

"No greeting for an old friend?" Reynar asked.

"Damn you, Reynar," Ashford growled. "Let Sophina go. She's not a part of this."

Reynar shook his head sadly. "Yes she is, Ashford, because of you. Why did you betray me? Why join with Jon Laurent instead of me?"

Maybe I have a chance, Ashford thought desperately. Maybe I can reach Reynar!

"Reynar, listen to me. You have it wrong! Jon Laurent is trying to save this world, not destroy it! You were fooled by--"

Reynar raised his hand and cut him off. He turned to the Magi crowding the room. "Leave us. But keep the binding spells in place. And stay close."

The Magi bowed to his command and retreated from the room. Only Reynar remained in the room.

"How did he do it?" Reynar asked. "How did he convince you to turn against me?"

"Just listen to me!" Ashford pleaded. "You were fooled, Reynar! The desert goddess is playing you! She's Jocelyn! That journal she gave you was nothing but lies!"

"Lies, Ashford? Lies?" He shook his head. "That book taught me more magic than I thought possible. How was that lies?"

"That's not--"

"And is Evelyn not giving birth to a special child?"

"Yes, but--"

"And can't this child destroy us if it so wishes?"

"Yes," Ashford growled. "But you're not--"

"Enough!" Reynar shouted. "You are blind, Ashford, to not see what Jon Laurent really is. He wishes to raise this child, doesn't he? To use its power?"

"It's not like that!" Ashford shouted.

"Please, listen to him!" Sophina pleaded. "You have it all wrong!"

"I haven't heard you contradict me," Reynar said. "Jon Laurent took enough of the truth to twist you around his finger."

"So what are you going to do to us?" Ashford spat. He knew he could never reach Reynar. It was over.

"Take you into custody and give you fair trials," Reynar offered graciously.

"To the nine hells with you," Sophina growled.

"Just kill us now," Ashford said.

Reynar shook his head sadly. He turned toward Sanje. "Is this what you wish, too?"

Sanje said nothing. Reynar sighed and turned back toward Ashford. "You were my friend, Ashford. Why? Why do this?"

"To protect Astuari," Ashford said simply.

"And I'm not?" Reynar growled. "Have I ever, in our friendship, gave you any reason to doubt me?"

"I know you think what you're doing is right," Ashford said slowly. And it was true. He couldn't really blame Reynar. He had been tricked by a very devious Magi. "But you're wrong. We're not the ones who've been fooled."

"I guess we have to agree to disagree," Reynar said sadly.

"Are you ready to kill your last friend, Reynar? Was Christiana, Altus, and Braxus not enough? We sacrificed everything for you."

"They were necessary sacrifices," Reynar whispered, his eyes wide. He didn't sound very convinced.

Ashford could only shake his head sadly. "Kill me, Reynar, and the last shield protecting you dies with me."

"I don't need that protection anymore," Reynar replied.

"No...I guess not. Just like you didn't need four friends who would sacrifice their lives for you. I guess they meant nothing."

"They meant everything!" he roared. "Don't you see? I have to protect Astuari! I have to honor the sacrifices all of you made! I must see this through!"

Ashford knew what he had to do. It was almost as if Jon was here and was whispering in his ear.




Shadow Dagger Ch. 20



Remember everything I've taught you.

The spells formed in his mind. Jon had taught him much over the past three months. He taught him how to split his focus and form two spells at the same time.

He taught him about friendship and love and the necessary sacrifices it takes to protect the ones you love. Ashford glanced at Sophina and smiled.

"No," she whispered, her face horrified.

"Sophina, Sanje, when I give the signal, take off and grab Marcus. Clear the west gate. Save this world."

"Don't do anything stupid," Reynar warned him. His eyes glowed silver and runes began to form in front of him.

"No, Ashford!" Sophina pleaded. "Let him take us! We will still have a chance then!"

"Listen to her," Reynar said. "Come with me and I promise you will be treated fairly. Let us end this farce."

"Sanje," Ashford said, his eyes meeting the Magi Victus'. "Protect her."

"No!" Sophina cried.

Sanje held his gaze and nodded. "The God be with you, Ashford Caulston."

"Don't make me kill you! Please!" Reynar demanded.

"RUN!" Ashford shouted.

"NO!" Sophina screamed.

The two spells flew from Ashford's mind. One spell countered the binding spells on Sophina and Sanje. The other formed on the ceiling of the sewer. Cracks immediately appeared.

Reynar's spell of lightning tore through his chest and sent him flying hard into the wall behind him.

The ceiling above Reynar's head cracked and exploded, raining large chunks of cement over his head.

Ashford collapsed to his side. Through the falling debris, he saw Sanje pulling Sophina out of the room as everything came crashing down.

Get here, Jon. Save them. Protect them.

I love you all.

Ashford smiled as the world turned dark.

***

"We have to go back!" Sophina cried. She struggled against Sanje's iron grip.

"He's dead! We can't go back!"

"NO! Don't say that! He needs our help!" Sophina beat on his arms as he continued to drag her.

"Don't let his sacrifice be for nothing!" Sanje commanded. "Help me get us out of here!"

The Magi poured into the hallway, eyes wide in confusion and fear. The rumbling of the crashing ceiling faded behind them.

Sophina snarled and pushed off Sanje. She whipped her sword out and charged the Magi. The Magi stumbled back and yelped in fear. Sophina slashed her sword in front of her and felt the runes on the blade cut the attempted spells.

She plunged her sword into the gut of one Magi. She kicked him off and pulled the sword out. The blade whistled through the air and slit the throat of the nearest Magi. Sanje flashed past her, his Shadow Dagger cutting and stabbing as he ran.

"Follow me!" he yelled.

Roaring in grief and defiance, Sophina slashed viciously in front of her as she pushed her way through the panicking Magi. Blood splattered her face and clothes. She felt several spells fly by her and smash into the walls.

Sanje reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her through the throng of Magi. A lightning bolt flew at his face but he deflected it with his dagger.

He pushed Sophina in front of him and urged her on. Sophina threw one last desperate glance behind her. Ashford was truly gone.

He was dead.

Blinded by tears, she ran blindly forward until Sanje tugged on her arm. "This way," he shouted.

The Magi had fell behind but she could hear somebody shouting orders. They were regrouping.

Sanje led her through a small doorway. The room contained an access ladder that led up to the city streets. Sanje climbed up first and pulled Sophina out.

Sophina rolled on the ground and vomited. "Ashford," she breathed.

Sanje picked her up. "Come on, we don't have time to waste."

"Damn you," she hissed. But she followed his lead.

He ducked behind the corner of a building and looked around. He turned back toward her. "Look, I need to go grab Raynolt's Magi. They were hiding in another part of the sewers. We need to attack the gate. Go and get your friend, Marcus. Hurry!"

Sophina nodded and took off down another street. She was already in Beggar's Hell so Jon's hideout wasn't very far away. Luckily, she didn't spot any patrols as she made her way through the twisting streets and alleyways.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the crumbling ruin that hid Jon's hideout. She raced toward the ruins and the false wall. She activated the switch and waited impatiently as the wall slid sideways.

She nearly tripped down the stairs, she was in such a hurry. She raced through the living room and down the hallway. She reached Marcus' room and burst through the door.

"Marcus! It's time! We need to attack the gate!"

Marcus looked up at her. Thankfully, he looked alert. "It's time?"

"Yes! Hurry!"

Marcus nodded and stood up. "It's time," he said softly.

Sophina tapped her foot impatiently as Marcus took his time walking toward her. "Hurry!" she urged him.

"Go," Marcus said. "I will be right behind you."

Sophina barely paused to nod before she took off. She had to get to the west gate. Everything depended on them getting Peron's men in.

Otherwise, Ashford's sacrifice would have been for naught.

***

Jon's horse stamped its feet and breathed out its nose. Everything seemed to be holding its breath. The night, the men, the horses; everything.

"What's taking her so long?" Peron wondered aloud.

Jon shook his head. Something was wrong. They waited patiently outside the gates but nothing could be heard behind them. No fighting or shouting.

"Maybe there's something wrong with Marcus," Jon mused, worriedly. "You said he lost his mind temporarily?"

Peron nodded. He, too, looked worried. "Yes, he hasn't been in his right me lately."

Is the drug losing its effects? Is he still taking it? There was just too much Jon didn't know. He hated feeling this powerless.

"Maybe I should attack the gate," Jon said. He looked up and studied the gate. It was made of heavy iron but Jon could easily blow it open.

"No, you don't know who's behind the gate," Peron said. "It's too risky. You might hurt Sophina."

"I know," Jon said. He hit his thigh with his fist. "We need to do something."

"Do you hear that?" Peron asked suddenly.

Jon did. He could hear shouting. "It's begun."

***

Sophina danced among the soldiers, her sword trailing lines of blood in her wake. She used her grief for Ashford to fuel his strikes. Her sword bit into steel and flesh alike. Swords shattered when met with her blade.

In a matter of moments, she stood shaking and breathing heavy, a group of soldiers dead at her feet. In the distance, by the wall, Sanje and his Magi Victus were battling a large squad of soldiers. Magi were battling Magi.

And they were losing. The Magi Victus were being driven back. Raynolt's Magi were far outnumbered by Reynar's. And still Marcus hadn't shown up.

I knew I should have dragged him here! Sophina thought angrily. Marcus hadn't been right in the head recently. He probably wandered off somewhere.

She scanned the battle, looking for small groups she could fight. She needed to fight. She needed to get this rage and pain out of her. But nobody was approaching her. They were all concentrated on the Magi Victus and the Magi.

"Step back," a voice said from behind her.

Sophina gasped and whirled around. Marcus was studying the fighting in front of him, a small frown on his face. "Marcus! Please help us!"

"I will," he said, softly.

Sophina almost sagged in relief. Marcus strode forward, completely unconcerned about the battle raging all around him. He stopped several yards from the gate and raised his hands.

Several groups of soldiers broke off and charged him. They got within a few feet before falling to their knees, clutching their heads. Arrows hissed all around him and disintegrated into ash.

The fighting stopped. An eerie silence descended over the area, as though the world held still for what was about to happen.

"Marcus!" Sophina suddenly screamed. "Our men are over there, too!"

But either Marcus couldn't hear her or didn't care. Flames suddenly licked the ground all around his feet as he began to weave his hands through the air. Sophina could see people scrambling to get away as the flames started to flow around Marcus.

Sophina held her arms over her eyes as the flames reached an intensity she had never seen before. They whirled around and around Marcus in a giant ball of fire.

The fire stopped suddenly, as though frozen in place. Sophina lowered her arms and stared confusedly at the inferno that had suddenly stopped spinning.

The ball shot forward toward the gate and the following concussion of sound and wind threw Sophina several yards back.

***

"Well, well, well," Lenard said, as he crouched in front of Raynolt. "Didn't think you would end up here, did you?"

Raynolt looked up at him, his eyes blazing with his fury. "What did it take for you to betray me?"

Lenard's face went still. "To betray you? Gold. That's all it took."

"You could have ruled next to me," Raynolt spat. "You could of have had an honored position in my new regime. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? That's why you enslaved your village?"

"You're a fool," Lenard said. "You were never going to seize power. I played you because you played me. You took me from my village and enslaved me."

"I would have given you power!" Raynolt snarled. "But now, I will have to take your life."

Lenard laughed. "Even now! Even now you're still confident of your ascent to power. How deluded are you?"

"My plans may not have always succeeded the way they were suppose to, but I still won," Raynolt reminded him. "You should know better."

"Your plans only succeeded because of me!" Lenard shot back. "Do you really think I was just some 8th Tier lackey? Didn't you notice how I broke through your 10th Tier protection spell? I hid my strength, Raynolt! I was the perfect spy."

"You flatter yourself," Raynolt sneered. "I didn't let you in on all of my plans. Truth be told, after the attack on the Emporium, I figured you to be a spy."

Lenard shook his head. "You really are deluded, aren't you? Then why did you tell me the location of your hideout?"

"It wasn't my hideout," Raynolt said quietly. "I hate those damn sewers. No, I just wanted Reynar to get rid of Sophina for me. And to expose you as the spy."

"And your capture?" Lenard asked, gesturing toward the chains. "You planned for this, too?"

"Do you really think that all the Magi loyal to me would join my side during the attack on the Emporium? You weren't the only spy I had, Lenard."

Lenard's eyes opened wide in shock as the binding spells faded from Raynolt. Raynolt smiled, his eyes glowing silver, and put his hand on Lenard's chest.

Lenard glanced fearfully at the doorway, at the Magi standing there. "You're his?" he asked.

"Always," Raynolt replied.

Lenard arched his back in pain and cried out as his ribs began to move violently within his body. Raynolt pressed his hand harder into his chest and finished the spell.

Lenard's ribs burst open, shredding his skin and flinging blood across the room. His intestines fell from the gaping wound in his chest and flopped onto the floor.

Raynolt calmly wiped the blood from his sleeves and looked up at his Magi. "Come, we need to get to the west gate. I have a deal that needs to be fulfilled."

***

Jon nearly fell from his horse as the west gate suddenly exploded in a ball of raging fire. The wall cracked and exploded for several yards to either side of the gate, raining stone down on his horsemen.

"My God," Peron gasped. "What was that?"

"Marcus," Jon said grimly. He snapped his reigns. "Ride! Ride for vengeance!" The men behind him shouted. The thundering of horses' flew down the road and toward the ruined gate.

***

Reynar groaned as a hand grabbed his arms and pulled him from the rubble. "My liege?" a desperate voice asked.

Reynar coughed up dust. "Sereph?"

"I'm here, my liege."

Reynar blinked the dust out of his eyes and sat up. He was sitting in the ruins of a sewer tunnel. Sereph was standing over him, looking concerned.

"What are you doing here, Sereph?"

Sereph reached down and drew Reynar to his feet. "Looking for you. I followed the noise of the destruction. What happened?"

"Ashford..." Reynar shook his head. "How did he do that? He cast two spells at the same time. If I didn't have my protection spell..."

"Ashford did this?" Sereph asked in surprise. He gasped. "The protection spell! It's gone! That means...he's dead."

Reynar glanced down. The protection spells that had protected him for so many years were gone. He suddenly felt vulnerable. "Don't talk so loudly, Sereph. Nobody is supposed to know about you."

"You don't have to worry," Sereph replied. "Everyone is fighting at the west gate right now."

"We have to get there!" Reynar said suddenly.

"There's no time, my liege. Evelyn's giving birth. It might take several hours but you can't take that risk!"

"Evelyn's giving birth?" Reynar asked, in stunned disbelief. "Now?"

Sereph pulled on Reynar's arm. "Come, my liege, it's time."

Reynar let Sereph pull him along. "It's time," he repeated slowly. "Dear God, it's time..."

***

Sophina groaned as she rolled over and sat up. The area around the gate was in chaos. Huge sections of the wall were simply missing. The gate itself was nothing more but a twisted lump of iron strewn about the courtyard.

Marcus wasn't finished. He laughed as more sections of the wall suddenly shattered and rained down destruction on the people below it.

"Marcus! Stop!" Sophina pleaded. She grabbed her sword and held it up in front of her. "You're killing our men!"

Marcus didn't turn towards her. Instead, he waved his hand and picked up a groaning Magi. He floated the Magi towards him. "Children," he said angrily. "All I see are children before me. Why do they rebel against their superiors?"

"Please," the Magi pleaded.

"I will teach you better," Marcus growled. He waved his hand again and the Magi shot toward a nearby building faster than an arrow. He cried out before his body shot through the concrete wall.

By now, dozens of groups of soldiers were trying desperately to flee through the rubble. Marcus laughed as he sent bolts of lightning at them from each fingertip. Each bolt of lightning found a soldier and nearly exploded their entire body.

"Stop," Sophina pleaded quietly. She took hesitant steps toward Marcus. If Ashford could sacrifice himself, then so could she. "Marcus, stop."

He finally heard her. He turned toward her, his face annoyed. He waved his hand. Sophina blindly swung her sword in front of her. Marcus laughed as the sword flew from her fingertips and she jerked into the air.

"Do you wish to challenge me, mortal?"

It hit Sophina suddenly. 

That was the stain I saw in his bedroom! He stopped taking his medicine! He's been throwing it out! He's not safe!

"Marcus, please, stop this," she pleaded desperately. She felt the pressure around her squeeze her ribs.

"Nothing can stop me, child. No force on this earth is capable of stopping me."

Sophina cried out as the pressure intensified. She could barely breath. Where was the Marcus she knew? The man Jon so loved?

"Not...even...love?" Sophina gasped. Her breath was coming harder and harder. She felt like she was on the breaking point.

Marcus blinked. "Love?" He laughed. "You don't even know what love is, child."

"MARCUS!"

Marcus' head whipped around. Sophina struggled to keep her eyes open. Horsemen were pouring through the gates. The man who yelled...she could see him in front. He looked furious, like Death itself.

It was Jon.

Sophina cried out as she was suddenly dropped. She looked up quickly and saw Marcus running with inhuman speed down a side street.

"Are you ok?"

That voice, that beautiful voice. She looked up and saw cold blue eyes pinched in worry. "Jon?"

"I'm here, Sophina." He knelt down and ran his hand over her face. "Are you hurt?"

Instead of answering, she grabbed his shirt and buried her head in his shoulder and wept. "Ssh, it's ok," he whispered. "Sophina, it's ok. I need to go after Marcus. Then we can catch up."

"No!" she gasped, looking up at him. "Jon...it's Ashford. He's dead. He died to save me."

She buried her head in his shoulder again. His arms tightened painfully around her. She held him tight and sobbed. 

She could feel tears drop onto the top of her head.

***

Reynar hurried into the room, Sereph right behind him. Evelyn was on the bed, panting and moaning.

"Evelyn? Are you ok?" Reynar asked quickly. He rushed to her side.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked furiously. "Get away, murderer!"

Reynar stared at her, stunned. "What...I...don't know--"

"He told me! He told me!" Evelyn cried out, pointing at Sereph. "You're going to steal my baby's power! You were just using me!"

Reynar snarled and launched himself at Sereph. He tackled him to the floor and pinned him with his legs. "Why?" he shouted. He punched Sereph several times in the face.

Sereph took each punch calmly, even when his lips broke and his nose dripped blood. Reynar exhausted his anger and fear and rolled off of him. "Why?" he asked nobody in particular.

"She was going to find out sooner or later," Sereph said quietly.

Reynar stood up and walked to the bed. "Now you know," he said quietly. He felt something in his heart tear loose.

"Yes I know!" Evelyn snarled. She cried out in pain and clenched the blanket in her fists. Her face was beaded in sweat. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

Reynar sat down on the bed and looked away. "Would you believe to save the world? Evelyn, your child is an abomination. It will turn on us one day, there's no doubt. But its power can help us right the world."

"Abomination?" Evelyn gasped. "But it has humanity...it isn't like those others..."

"I said that to ease your worries," Reynar admitted. "I'm so sorry, Evelyn. First you lost Daminus and now...now I'm going to take your baby away from you."

"You bastard," she moaned, as she clenched her teeth in pain. The contraction subsided. "You murdering bastard. Take your excuses with you to the nine hells where you belong."

Reynar got off the bed and didn't turn to face her. His heart was too heavy to face her. "I'm going to get the box," he told Sereph quietly.

"You're a good man," Sereph said fervently. "Don't forget that."

Reynar sighed and shook his head. "No, Sereph, I'm not." He turned and looked at Evelyn. She glared at him with hatred and burning eyes. "I'm a monster."

***

Jon held Sophina in his arms as they looked over the rubble that buried their friend. "He was a good man," Jon said, brokenly.

Sophina hiccupped and said nothing. Her grief was beyond words. Jon wished he could weep with her but he had to be strong. It wasn't over yet.

"We need to prepare," he told her quietly.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving the rubble. "After this is over, we will get him out of there and bury him properly?"

Jon nodded. "We will. Come, let's go plan."

Jon barely turned around to go back when Raynolt Teryus stepped in front of him. "Jon Laurent," Raynolt said. "I finally meet the man himself."

"Get out of my way," Jon told him, quietly. Sophina stiffened in his arms.

"I think you owe me something," Raynolt said. "I did my part. My Magi helped even though I wasn't paid yet."

"Where were you?" Sophina hissed. "Where were you when Reynar discovered us and killed Ashford?"

Raynolt looked down at her coldly. "What are you implying?"

"You know what's she implying," Jon said.

Raynolt growled. "If I betrayed you, I wouldn't still be here, would I?"

"I will see you dead," Sophina promised him.

Raynolt sneered and turned back to Jon. "My payment? Or me and my Magi won't help you attack the palace."




Shadow Dagger Ch. 20



Jon gently pried Sophina from his arms and stepped up close to Raynolt. "If you think to betray me, then think again. You will beg for death before I'm through with you."

Raynolt tried to sneer but it only came out as a frightened grimace. "I will do my part," he snapped.

Jon nodded and walked over to his horse. He dug around in his saddlebags and took out the book he had written while riding through the desert.

"Here," Jon said, handing the book to Raynolt. "The secrets of my magic."

"And the Shadow Dagger?" Raynolt asked eagerly as he snatched the book from Jon.

"Everything," Jon promised. "We attack at dawn."

"I'll be there," Raynolt said absently, as he stared down in awe at the book in his hands.

Jon walked back toward Sophina. "Was that wise?" Sophina asked quietly.

"He won't get much from it," Jon whispered back. "The magic is too advanced for him and the secrets of the Shadow Dagger don't concern him. We got the better of this deal, believe me."

"Still, I don't trust him," Sophina said slowly.

"I don't either," Sanje said, stepping up to Jon.

Jon turned and stared at the Master Victus. He knew it would eventually come to this. "Thank you for your help at the gate," Jon said. "And for everything else you have done for Sophina."

"I didn't do it for her," he replied coldly. "You and I need to talk. I made a promise."

"Later," Jon promised. "There's a lot we need to do."

"Midnight," Sanje said, turning away. "At our usual spot."

"What was that about?" Sophina asked.

Jon shook his head. "Let's not worry about that right now."

"Sophina!" a happy voice roared.

Sophina groaned as Peron came jogging over to them. She gasped in surprise when he bent down and picked her up in his arms and swung her around. "I'm so glad to see you alive!"

"Um... me too," Sophina gasped, as he finally set her down. "I suppose you already met Jon?"

Peron nodded. "We met outside the gates. We didn't have to do much fighting there but I look forward to the dawn. I would be honored to fight by your side."

Jon grasped the man's forearm. "I would, too. Have the men given you any trouble?"

Peron smiled and shook his head. "No, surprisingly. I guess the betrayal at Oasis has changed their minds about a lot of things. They welcomed me back as their Chieftain. That is, if you're really sure you want to give up the title?"

"I don't need it anymore," Jon replied. "You're the true Chieftain. Lead them well tomorrow."

Peron hesitated before turning away. "These men follow me, Jon Laurent, but they want blood. And our entire army is marching here. I don't know if they will be satisfied with just Reynar's head."

"We will cross that bridge when we get there," Jon said. "You know your role tomorrow?"

Peron pounded his chest in pride. "We will whip these so-called soldiers of yours and keep their attention so you can slip around them. Don't worry about us."

"Thank you," Jon said, gripping Peron's shoulder. "I owe you much."

Peron smiled. "I love the fight, Jon Laurent. You don't owe me anything else. Although..."

"Yes?" Jon asked hesitantly.

Peron rubbed his chin and looked down at Sophina. "A man fights better when he has a woman the night before. If Sophina would be willing..."

"I don't think so!" Sophina snarled.

"Well..." Jon said.

"Jon!" Sophina gasped. She elbowed him in the ribs. Jon groaned.

Peron threw back his head and laughed. "The God be with you, Jon Laurent! But I don't think even he can handle her!"

Peron continued to laugh as he turned away but Sophina stopped him. "Peron...thank you, for making us laugh. We needed it."

Jon reached down and wiped away the tear that fell down her cheek. Peron's face grew serious. "Anytime," he said somberly.

Jon held Sophina close and watched him walk away. "I'm glad we found him," Jon said quietly.

"Me too," Sophina said, as she dug her head into his chest.

"Jon Laurent," a Magi Victus said, stepping to up to them. "Master Sanje sent me to deliver a message. Evelyn Ventus was spotted in her room. She's gone into labor."

"Incredible timing," Sophina whispered in awe. She looked up at Jon. "We attack at dawn. Will that be in time?"

"It will have to be," Jon said, grimly. The timing really was incredible. Not for the first time, Jon thought that the God was still pulling strings. Did they really have a chance to pull this off?

"Jon," Sophina said softly, looking up at him. "Everything's ready. Peron's men know what to do. Sanje and his Magi Victus are ready. Raynolt is bringing his Magi."

"What are you getting at?"

"I need to talk to you in private," she whispered. "At the hideout."

Jon sighed. He couldn't deny her, not after tonight. "Okay, but it will have to be quick. I still need to deal with Marcus before it's too late."

Jon embraced his magic and hid them from view as they made their way through the streets. Sophina was oddly quiet and didn't say a word as they approached the hideout. It wasn't until they were safely downstairs that she spoke.

"I have something important to tell you," she said hesitantly.

Jon took a seat by the fire. "Please, tell me. I still have much to do."

She nodded and perched on the edge of the chair. "It's about something Marcus told me. It's about Sarah."

Jon twitched. "What about her?" he asked slowly. He had to take a deep breath. Even the name spoken aloud still made his heart ache.

"Well...he says she came to him after...after you banished her."

Jon perched on the edge of his seat, his heart in his throat. "He didn't tell me this. What did she want?"

Sophina glanced nervously at Jon and looked away. "She...just wanted somebody to talk to, I guess." Sophina paused and took a deep breath. "Jon, she never consummated the soul-bond with Berrick. She never slept with him."

Jon was standing but he didn't remember moving. He looked down at Sophina, his chest rapidly moving up and down. "Don't!" he warned her. "Don't tell me this!"

Sophina stood up and looked at him in pity. "I'm sorry, but you need to know. Marcus asked me not to tell you but you need to know this. It's important."

"Lies!" Jon barked. He turned away from her and paced the living room. "Why would he lie like that? I saw her, Sophina! I saw both of them come out of his tent, half-dressed!"

Sophina raised a placating hand towards him. "She only lay with him, Jon! She couldn't deny the pull of the soul-bond but they never consummated it! She chose not to!"

Jon fell to his knees. "She...didn't betray me?" He felt like his heart was hemorrhaging blood. No, not blood. Poison. The poison that had circulated through his veins for the past two thousand years.

Sophina knelt down beside him. "No," she said gently. "But knowing what Daminus and Evelyn had, can you imagine what that cost her? She still loved you, Jon. She sacrificed her life for yours."

"But why?" Jon demanded, tears streaming down his face. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Sophina reached up and gently wiped the tears away. She, too, had tears swimming in her eyes. "Because she felt like she betrayed you, anyways. She had a soul-bond with another man. She felt she deserved your banishment."

Jon collapsed into Sophina's arms. She held his head against her breast and whispered soothingly to him. Jon's mind was lost to the past. To the memories of his beloved Sarah. How her golden hair spread across his chest. How her eyes lit up every time she looked down at their son.

Jon wept until all the poison was out of his system. His memories, long locked away in his mind, threatened to sweep him away in their glorious beauty. But he was still here in the present. He was needed.

"Thank you," Jon whispered, as he pulled back from Sophina. "You have no idea what you did for me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

"It was my pleasure," she beamed. She wiped away her tears and smiled at him.

Jon stood up. "I need to finish this. Sleep here and I will come get you when it's time."

"Jon," Sophina said quickly, standing up. She grabbed his hand. "Please...stay with me tonight. Jon...I...I love you."

Jon closed his eyes and let the words wash over him. He opened them. "Thank you, Sophina." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "But I need to go."

Sophina's smile slipped away. "That's it? Thank you?"

Jon turned to go but Sophina yanked him back. "What do you want from me?" Jon asked angrily.

"Your love!" she practically screamed. "What can't you just say it?"

"Sophina, it's been an emotional night for me," Jon began but she cut him off.

"Don't give me that excuse, Jon! You have no idea what I've been through these past few months! And now we lost Ashford and...and I...I feel lost...and hurt..." She trailed off, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Sophina..." Jon said. He was at a complete loss for words.

Sophina sobbed once but then held her back up straight. She looked fiercely into his eyes. "If you don't love me, then just tell me. I can take it."

She looked like a faint breeze could tip her over. Jon knew the words to say but couldn't bring them out. He opened his mouth several times but nothing came out. What was wrong with him?

His heart nearly died as he saw the life drain from her eyes. Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to age several years. "So be it," she said, and an old spark of her anger seemed to return to life. "I don't need you!"

She pushed past him. Something seem to break inside of him at that moment. He snarled and shot out his hand. He grabbed her arm hard and pulled her around.

"Ouch! Let me--"

She was cut off by the force of Jon's lips. He could feel her surprise as he shoved her against the wall and devoured her lips with his. She overcame her shock quickly and eagerly darted her tongue inside of his mouth.

Jon wanted her with an urgency he couldn't explain. His hands were all over her body, wishing they were touching bare flesh and not grimy clothes. She moaned into his mouth as her hands raced across his body.

Jon leaned back and fumbled with the buttons on her coat. She reached down with shaky hands and helped him with the buttons. He tore off the last button and threw the coat aside.

She grabbed the bottom of his coat and started tugging it up. He raised his arms as she pulled it over the top of his head. He leaned back in and kissed her hard. The softness of her lips folded beneath the urgency of his kiss.

He reached his hands up and yanked aside the shirt she wore beneath the coat. The buttons popped off and flew across the room. He reached up eagerly and squeezed her nipples.

"Jon," she gasped, her head thrown back. "Say it, please."

Jon dropped his hands from her nipples. She brought her head back down and opened her eyes. He looked into those shining eyes and let them pierce his heart. "I love you," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and smiled. Another tear leaked out from beneath her eyelid. Jon leaned down and kissed the tear away, tasting the salty sweetness of it. He brought his lips down her cheek and back to her lips.

She grabbed the back of his head and kissed him hard. He dropped his hands down to her breeches and unlaced them. He kissed his way down her chest. Her hands were buried in his hair and she shuddered as he reached the top of her breeches.

He pulled them down slowly, kissing every area of flesh that was exposed. "Jon," she gasped. "I love you."

He pulled the breeches down to her boots. He grabbed each boot and pull them off one by one. He slid the breeches down and off her feet. He stood back up and kissed her.

She moaned into his mouth. Her hands roamed eagerly across the shirt on his chest and down to his breeches. Instead of pulling the shirt off like she did the coat, she dug her hands into his chest and ripped it off. She leaned down and kissed the muscles on his stomach.

Jon closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations her lips were causing. She, too, pulled off his boots and took off his breeches. She gasped when his cock was exposed. He looked down and watched her grab it, a look of awe on her face.

"I've never seen one before," she whispered, looking up at him. She closed her eyes and kiss the tip of it. Jon moaned and closed his eyes.

He felt her stand up, her hand warm on his cock. "Open your eyes," she said. He did. "I've...I've never been with a man. Be gentle."

Jon leaned over and kissed her neck. She purred as he squatted down and kiss the left side of her neck, moved down to suck on each nipple, and kissed his way up to the other side of her neck.

He kissed her lips again as his hand trailed its way down her stomach. He felt her shudder against him as his fingers explored the wetness between her legs.

"Jon," she moaned by his ear.

He pressed her back up against the wall, his lips still engulfed in hers. He stepped between her legs and parted them with his knees. He took a hold of his cock and positioned it against her opening.

"Are you ready?" he gasped.

She bit her lip and nodded. Jon squatted down and angled his cock upwards. He rose up as his cock slowly pressed up inside of her. She yelped and hugged his neck. He nearly stood up straight as his entire length filled inside of her.

"Slow," he whispered by her ear. He reached down and grabbed her thigh, picking it up for leverage.

"Slow," she repeated.

He thrust once, slowly. She grimaced but nodded for him to continue. He held on tight to her thigh and back as he thrust again. Again. She continued to grimace but kept nodding.

He thrust again, a little faster. This time he got a little moan. "I love you," he whispered by her ear as he thrust again.

"I love you," she panted, her face no longer grimacing. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open.

Again and again Jon thrust. He picked up speed as Sophina continued to moan pleasurably. She even picked up both legs and wrapped them around his back. Jon held on to her ass as he continued to thrust inside of her.

"Jon, Jon, JON!" she grunted by his ear. Jon's legs were trembling as he held her up against the wall. He felt his moment coming. From the way she was clenching his cock, hers was coming too.

Sophina suddenly arched her back and began shuddering uncontrollably. Jon cried out as he released his seed inside of her. He continued to hold her up as she slowly stop jerking. He pumped the last bit of seed inside of her and nearly collapsed. They fell together to the floor, next to the fire.

"I love you," she panted, her face shining with sweat. Her eyes were fluttering shut.

"I love you," he said, smiling as she drifted off to sleep. He prayed that he would always remember this moment.

***

Sanje stood on top of the wall by the sea and looked out over the dark water. The sea spray was heavy with salt and nearly chilled him to the bone. He loved it. He loved the sound the sea made as it heaved itself against the rocks. He loved the smell of salt in the wind.

But he found no respite in the water this night. Jon Laurent haunted his every thought. When he saw him so casually hand over the secrets of the Magi Victus to Raynolt, he had to resist the urge to stab him in the back.

How dare he hand over their most precious secret! Sanje paced the wall furiously. He continued to wonder why he hadn't tried to kill him. He had made a promise, true, but what did promises count against betrayal? Still, something made him hesitate.

Maybe he was just tired of being so suspicious all the time. Maybe Jon wasn't the monster he assumed him to be. It was time, perhaps, that he tried to have an open mind. Just give him one chance to explain himself.

"It's a nice night for a stroll by the ocean."

Sanje sighed. He had heard Raynolt approach but he hoped the man would turn away. "What do you want, Raynolt? I thought you would be off enjoying your little book."

"Oh, I have plenty of time for that," he replied lightly. "I skipped ahead to the parts about the Shadow Dagger. Fascinating stuff."

Sanje suppressed his irritation. He knew better than to let Raynolt know he got to him. "Well, good for you. Now you know."

"Now I know," Raynolt repeated mockingly. "Seems like you were right, after all. I can't do anything with that knowledge."

Sanje allowed himself a satisfied smile. "I told you. Only Magi Victus can make use of a Shadow Dagger."

"Yes, of course." Raynolt walked up beside him and looked out over the water. "I hate the smell of salt water," he said, conversationally.

Sanje smirked. "Then I suggest you go prepare for the attack."

"I can't," he said, his voice softly rising over the ocean breeze. "You have something I need."

Sanje turned toward him in alarm. At least, he tried to turn toward him. But his body was bound completely. Shocked, he looked down and saw the familiar runes covering his body.

"You've gotten too use to me," Raynolt said, turning toward him. "You let your guard down."

"What is this?" Sanje growled. "What are you trying to prove?"

Raynolt stepped closed to him. "What am I trying to prove?" He appeared to think it over before answering. "Lots of things, I suppose."

He showed Sanje his hand. Sanje watched, wide-eyed, as Raynolt slowly reached down to the sheath on his side. "No," Sanje whispered, too stunned to even form words.

Raynolt grasped the handle of the Shadow Dagger and removed it from the sheath. "I'm trying to prove that I just won't die," he said, smiling. He held the dagger up to his face and studied it.

"Drop it," Sanje said, his voice almost shaking with fear. Drop my son! Get your filthy hands off of him!

"So intricate," Raynolt breathed, his eyes wide as he turned the blade in his hand. "I can feel the power in here. That was nice of Jon to reveal that anyone can touch one of these."

"I'm going to kill you!" Sanje rasped.

Raynolt lowered the blade and stared at Sanje. "It occurred to me that I may have to face Reynar tomorrow. I need extra protection when I do. And he will never suspect this."

"So do you think I will just let you walk away with it?" He knew what Raynolt had to do. But was he capable of it? He just wanted his son back. He thrashed against his bonds and shouted and cursed.

Raynolt watched him struggle with no expression on his face. He looked at the dagger in his hand and back at Sanje. "You know, I always wondered, when the time came, would I be capable of killing my own son? And do you know what I figured out?"

The razor-sharp blade slid between Sanje's ribs and up into his chest. "I've already killed my wife, so why not my son?" Raynolt whispered by his ear.

Sanje coughed blood and sagged against the bonds holding him in place. The spell disappeared and the dagger slid out of his side as he fell to the ground. "Father," he whispered, as he coughed up more blood.

He felt Raynolt kneel over him. "Thank you, for all you have done." He felt a hand caress his face. "I will make a better world for all of us."

Sanje coughed again and rolled to his back. The stars shone down at him and the salt-tinged wind washed over him, filling his nostrils with its heavenly scent.

It was a good night to die.

***

Jon watched the wall close behind him. He tried not to think whether he would see Sophina again. She looked so peaceful as she slept by the fire. He hated to leave.

But he had business to take care of. First, he had to meet with Sanje. And then he had to hunt down Marcus.

My brother...what am I going to do about you?

He feared that Marcus was already lost to him. He knew when the True-born went bad there was no reasoning with them. He tried several times in the past. If Marcus couldn't be reached, then he would have to...

No! Don't think like that, Jon. He can be reached. He can be saved. Just believe. Believe!

He forced Marcus out of his thoughts. He would concentrate on one thing at a time. The path to the wall where he usually met Sanje was nearby. Jon liked to conduct most of his business in Beggar's Hell.