Chapter Nineteen: Of Goodbye and the Summering Rocks
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) James woke early the following morning. His mind raced with thoughts of the past day as he slowly took in his surroundings. Here the bright sunlight could be seen for the trees opened up like welcoming arms to the blue sky. The fire had been put out and he quickly found that he was not the only one that had awoken. Pea and Darl were nearby arguing over something he couldn’t see. They spoke in whispers, but he could tell from the tone in Darl’s voice that the two were on the verge of insulting each other. He stood up and let the covers fall from his body. He yawned and stretched. The scent of his un-bathed body wafted over him and he cringed. He sorely missed having a daily shower. It had been days since his last shower—far too long for his liking. Deep down he wished he could go back to Arnur and the great pool of little cleaning beings. The feeling of being one hundred percent clean of all dirt and grime seemed only a dull memory now. James walked over to Pea and Darl, listening closely as he went. “What if it’s poisoned?” Darl said, his whisper strong and nearly loud enough to be at normal speech. “Why would they poison us with one of their own among us?” Pea said. “Why not? False sense of security!” “Ridiculous.” “Plausible.” Then James was next to them. They looked at him; he looked down and found the object of their argument. Four baskets weaved of leaves and filled with berries of all shapes, colors, and sizes, and other fruits that both looked familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, lay next to the dead fire. There were fruits he knew—bananas, apples, pears, and even kiwis. He marveled at the sight of it. Even in Arlin City he had not seen such a brilliant array of fruits. “It was left overnight,” Darl said to him. “Oh?” James mumbled. “Forest folk of some sort. Maybe the Moss People left it. Maybe Brownies.” “Darl thinks it’s a trap,” Pea said. “Why would the Moss People poison us?” Darl grimaced. “Rumors and legends are generally born out of some sort of reality.” “You honestly think the Moss People would be behind this?” Pea’s voice rose to just above a whisper. “Or the Brownies.” “Preposterous.” Then Darl and Pea were arguing fully again and James tuned them both out. He stared down at the four baskets. Saliva built in his mouth. It all looked delicious, like a perfectly prepared array of the best pickings possible. Would they really poison us, he thought. Why? We’ve done nothing to them. Just then Tum Tum walked between his legs, yawning and stumbling side to side. The Brownie was not yet fully awake. As Tum Tum reached the baskets Pea and Darl ceased their whispered arguing to watch. Then the little man grabbed an apple, turned with drooping eyes, took a bite, and walked back through James’ legs and to where Tiddle lay fast asleep. The three of them watched intently. Suddenly Tum Tum heaved and began to choke. His eyes went wide; he coughed and hacked, clutching at his throat, teetering this way and that. Then, just as abruptly as it had all started, Tum Tum stopped and looked at the apple in his hands. He threw it with all the might a little man could muster into the forest and cried out, “Bloody tricksters! That apple is still a day away from being ripe you filthy little…” Tum Tum caught himself, took a deep breath, and brushed himself off. “Humph.” Then he went back to his bed and fell asleep in an instant. James, Pea, and Darl stared in disbelief. Then James took a peach from one of the baskets and ate. Darl tried to protest, but it was too late. Wonderment came over him as the juices of the peach filled him. The peach was juicy, as all peaches should be, and brought every sensation of joy imaginable from the sense of taste. A little stream of juice dribbled down his chin; he wiped it away. Soon Darl and Pea joined in and they all ate together, reveling in the amazing array of choices. Several minutes later, or at least long enough for James to realize that the sun was now truly rising from the horizon and spilling light over everything, Tum Tum and Tiddle awoke and took off along the path. Nobody tried to stop them, though James could tell that Darl truly wanted to. Instead, the three packed everything up in a rush and quickly mounted their respective Blaersteeds. The steeds took off without a single command and in no time they were alongside Tum Tum and Tiddle, both of which had taken to singing and playing their fiddles. This time James did not listen. He instead allowed his mind to wander for he had had far too much of their singing the day before and already could feel a headache building above his eyes. He focused on the sky, the trees, bushes, and other plants both old and new to him. His eyes wandered from the dense black hairs of Mirdur’eth to the path before him that had suddenly stopped winding in an out of the forest that seemed impossible to traverse. The path was as close to straight as he could hope, only taking mild turns here and there. The path itself was clear of brush as if it suddenly was heavily traveled. He wondered if perhaps the Moss People or even the other Brownies, which he assumed there were, had some affect on the way the forest
Chapter Eighteen: The Forest of Gall and the Little People
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) Dawn had come and gone faster than James had thought possible. Little light could push through the canopy to the forest floor. The foliage was so dense that at times they were forced off the raggedy path to get over fallen trees or twisted walls of roots. He hadn’t seen anything like it before. Even in Woodton, where the trees and brush were considerably thick, it would have been easier to travel than here in the Forest of Gall. The rumble of the earth had long passed away, or perhaps it was that they had traveled far enough now that they could not feel the vibrations. Either way, James knew that Luthien would be marching on Ti’nagal and, despite the two rivers of magma, the city would fall. There were not enough soldiers, nor enough fortifications or weaponry to repel the army of thousands upon thousands. As it was, they had traveled through most of what seemed to be morning, moving constantly at a northward direction. There were little to no sharp turns, though the path wound back and forth like a slithering snake. Birds and other creatures made miniscule amounts of noise as they traveled, but every so often they heard the cry of tiny mammals, like a pack of bickering squirrels in the distance. But James did not attribute these new noises to anything that Belrin had told them about the creatures that lived here. The calls were not sentient, not as far as he could tell. They were rodent in nature, like some distant and altogether other-worldly relative to the animals he had become familiar with back home. He imagined the little creatures with bushy tails, collecting nuts and hopping tree to tree and screeching whenever a predator or competitor appeared. Soon the sun began to take its leave and the light faded. Pea retrieved his torch and lit it with magic. The light shined bright and cast dark shadows beyond its circle. Here the light had places to go, unlike back in the tunnel beneath the river. “We should set up camp soon,” Pea said. Darl grunted. “I would be apprehensive to stay the night here in this place. It is too alive for my tastes.” “It’ll take us a few days to get through this,” James said. “It’s not exactly a straight shoot through the woods.” “I know, but if we can help it, I would prefer not putting ourselves in a position to become targets.” “You think there is truth to what Belrin said.” Pea leaned sideways so that he was visible behind Bel’ahtor’s head. James looked back, realizing by this point that he did not have to control Mirdur’eth in any fashion—the animal would walk without his aid. “I think there is enough truth there to be cautious. If Belrin is wrong and there are no dangerous creatures living here, then we have sprites and the like that might hinder our journey while we sleep. They are mischievous little creatures.” “As there are everywhere.” “Let’s just go farther. I do not feel even the slightest comfortable here.” The Blaersteeds pushed on, passing through brush and long reaching tree limbs as if they were nothing more than minor hindrances. Pale moonlight made its way through the canopy; the sun made its last stand at the horizon before slowly dipping away into the mountains. Stars shined above, visible in rare holes in the forest. Silence reigned supreme in the Forest of Gall. Night brought with it no sounds other than the soft clacks of the Blaersteeds. Even the strange squirrel noises in the distance were gone, replaced now by nothing. It felt too silent to James. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else. The silence was too abnormal. He had never been in a forest that had no sound in the night. He could remember the owls hooting loud and clear in Woodton. There could be no mistake that this forest in the land of Traea was silent for a very specific reason and he knew deep down that it had nothing to do with there being a lack of night creatures. Something made life here stay quiet; something frightening even to those that wandered in the dark. A few more hours passed and the forest parted slightly, opening the path fully to the night sky, bathing it in the white-blue light of the moon. James gathered that this might be the closest thing to a clearing in the Forest of Gall. It provided a mere ten feet of open space, but it looked like a fissure in the earth covered on both sides by impenetrable walls of trees. Here Mirdur’eth stopped and refused to go any farther no matter how hard he tried to coax the black steed. He turned back to find that both Pea and Darl were at a standstill too. Darl looked far from happy about it. James thought that at any moment the old man would start screaming at his horse. But no such thing happened. Darl finally gave up, peered grumpily at James, and said, “Apparently we can’t go any farther.” James smiled. “These horses have minds of their own.” Mirdur’eth snorted loudly. “Sorry, I meant Blaersteeds.” The steed nodded once and shuddered. “We’ll make camp here,” Darl said, dismounting and guiding his steed to the center of the clearing. “Collect some wood for a fire,” he said to James. “Not much. Just enough for a small flame.” Then the old man tied his steed to a root that stuck up in a tall curve from the center of the path. James dropped and quickly did the same, though Mirdur’eth shifted uncomfortably. Pea was not far behind with
Chapter Seventeen: Of Ti’nagal and the Forest
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) “Listen closely,” Belrin said. “There is no room for error.” James leaned over and peered into the map of Traea. His gaze became fixed on Teirlin’pur. This is where we are going, he thought. What will it be like? Will it be a frightening place just like its ruler? Will we be able to get in without being caught? He pushed the thoughts away and looked back into the now serious eyes of Belrin. Darl leaned in too, grumbling something incomprehensible. James could barely see the old man’s lips move under the scraggly white beard. “You must go north of the city. There you will find a path through the Forest of Gall. It will not be an easy path, but I believe you can pass through relatively unhindered.” Belrin waved his hand over the forest. “This area will not be pleasant, but safer than trying to go east and slip by Luthien’s army. Not much is known of the forest other than it lives. In some manner of speaking.” “In some manner of speaking?” Darl said, his voice coming out in mocking groans. “Much more than mere animals dwell within the far reaches. We hear the sounds of beings neither human nor animal. Beings sentient, screeching a language that we cannot understand and will never understand. No one has seen them, whatever they are.” “Are they dangerous?” “Only to travelers who do not leave when warned.” “But you said you can’t understand what they say,” James said. “They block paths, drive away horses, even Blaersteeds, and put out fires. Mischievous little creatures the whole lot.” James wondered what could possibly live in the forest that could be such a nuisance. He thought of the native peoples in the Amazon and how easy it was for them to hide from explorers, at least those that had no great buildings or statues to boast with. He wondered if such peoples had warned the first explorers, or if they had become violent when their warnings were unheeded. “Now, when you reach the eastern side of the forest you need to travel north along the Nor’duíl River until you reach the Summering Rocks. The water should be low enough for you to cross without a raft. The current should pose no problems. Nor’sigal is immediately east and should take you no more than half a day once across.” “What if we’re followed or Luthien has scouts along the river?” Pea said. Belrin looked down at Pea, and softly said, “Then you ride hard through the Black Tundra to the Black Sands until the Blaersteeds buck you or you pass out.” He looked away and continued, “Lord Falth is expecting you at Nor’sigal, or should be if our falcon reached him. He’ll be able to tell you what to expect in the Fire Rim.” His finger glided over a long flame colored line on the map. James listened intently. He made a mental note to remember every detail. From Nor’sigal they were to travel north over the Nor’kal River, across the plains beyond and into the Fire Rim. There would be their hardest terrain—fire, marshlands, bogs, and clouded skies. The fires had raged there for centuries. He had read about it in the etiquette book. Ashes filled the atmosphere like water in a cup, falling in flurries of gray, brown, and black—a Christmas of dark colors. Nothing survived there. The trees that had once made a home there had long since died and become fuel for the fires. Powerful magic had been used to force the burning remnants to drive straight up into the sky to protect the lands beyond. No magic could stop the fires. They burned with such unnatural intensity that those who had tried to put them out failed miserably. He worried if they could make it through such terrain. It seemed so utterly impossible even for the Blaersteeds. Making camp there would only hinder them further. He knew they could not stand the polluted air for long without becoming ill—or without dying. There was little he could do to protect his lungs against such a terrible onslaught. From the Fire Rim they were to take a slight northeast path above the Spyder Range to the Pahn’drys Valley that sat north of Teirlin’pur, split by the center of the mountains there. “There is a path there,” Belrin said. “It sits along the mountains. It leads under the earth to a spot just north of Teirlin’pur. Be as common as you can. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Luthien and his people do not know who you are. It’s not a heavily traveled path, but neither is it entirely bare or forgotten. Try to seem like simple travelers and you should have no problems passing through and gaining entry to the city. Luthien is evil, but he still runs an empire that needs to support itself. Teirlin’pur will not so easily turn away potential customers.” James drew an imaginary line on the map to help him remember the path that Belrin had set out for them. The journey didn’t look remotely easy. He hoped they wouldn’t run into any scouts; he prayed that they would make it to Teirlin’pur in one piece. “We think that your friend may be kept in the northern towers. Let your Blaersteeds rest at this point. When you find your friend you must ride nonstop to Sempur. A ship will be there that can take you off the mainland.” “Where do you propose we go?” Darl said angrily. “Gallivanting across the ocean hoping that any stop we make won’t lead us to capture?” His arms were crossed. “The Wunder Isles.” Pea choked. “Are
Chapter Sixteen: A Glimmer of Something
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) James stumbled to his feet. He was still dizzy from expending so much magic, yet now, unlike in previous times, he could at least see and stand. Dust filled every inch of the pass between the mountains. Darkness covered everything. He could barely see a few inches in front of him. He covered his mouth with his sleeve in an attempt to keep the dust out of his lungs. Still, it found its way into his mouth; he could taste it. He coughed, blinked quickly. It took him a moment to get sturdy on his feet, though he could not see exactly where his feet were. The rocks beneath him weren’t sturdy, as they never had been since he and the others had walked the pass. Then he took a few hesitant steps. Something brushed against his foot and clattered. He reached down and yanked back as something sharp pricked his finger. He brought it beneath his eyes, saw a single drop of blood welling up at the end. The drop fell and he knelt down, waving his hands in the air. The dust swirled around his arm and cleared away for a brief moment. There on the ground was his sword. He remembered losing it when Nara’karesh had attacked. He shook away the thoughts. It’s dead now, he thought. Dead and gone forever. James quickly took hold of the hilt and picked the sword up. Dust enveloped the blade as he lifted it from the ground, spiraling wildly like the hands of ghosts. He took a few more steps in the dark, nearly tripped. “Pea? Darl?” he said. “Here,” Pea’s voice passed like a wavering echo through the dust somewhere nearby. James headed that direction. Rocks slid away under his feet, but he managed to find the tiny man sitting on a large stone that had rolled out of the landslide. “Are you okay?” “As good as I can be given the circumstances. And you?” “Tired…” “Aren’t we all?” He nodded. “About time for some good news.” “What do you mean?” “Nara’karesh is dead and the Masters of Arnur have been avenged. Strangely corny, but true.” Slowly the dust began to settle; James could now see ten feet in front of him. There the silhouette of the Lean hovered and some distance behind Darl sat on a tall stone. James motioned to Pea and then walked forward cautiously. As soon as he came into clear sight of Darl the old man cursed. “I’m starting to come to an understanding of why magic users are so incredibly dangerous no matter what side they are on,” Darl said. James and Pea snickered. Then James looked back to the landslide as visibility increased. They had pulled from the mountain far more than he had anticipated. The large outcropping had turned into a massive landslide that had narrowly missed him. He remembered now where he once stood, utterly helpless to the corrupted blackness of Nara’karesh. Now the entire width of the pass was filled with rock and dirt a hundred feet high. And somewhere in that mess was the lifeless body of the lyphon. James sighed with relief at having lost this one burden. Now I only have one thing to worry about, he thought. Luthien and his army. He knew that he could very well be walking into Luthien’s hands if Ti’nagal had been taken, and ultimately to his destruction. Something told him that Luthien had no desire to take him alive. “Shall we continue?” Darl said, standing and tossing the packs to their prospective owners. “To Ti’nagal,” James said. “Yes. To Ti’nagal.” Darl turned and led the group along the pass. The Lean slipped into view next to James. James glanced to the side, nodded slightly, and returned his gaze to the shifting rocks beneath his feet. “Again,” the Lean said, “I say that you are mighty.” “I’m not,” he said, a hint of distaste in his voice. “As you said before. Yet you tear apart mountains.” “With help. And again, that doesn’t make me mighty. Power never does.” “If not power, then what?” “Integrity and honor…” Darl’s voice was assertive. “Power is left to those who have neither.” “Do Kings not have integrity and honor because they have power?” “That depends on how a King uses his power.” James slipped, caught his balance. “A King who leads and commits no evil act does not consider himself to have power, but rather to be a servant to his people.” “Yet he commands his people to do his bidding.” “Yes, but if he gives those com…” he slipped again. “…commands for the good of his people he isn’t using his power for a bad reason.” The Lean’s form shifted as if its arms had passed through it and returned to their original places. “I see.” Then the Lean blinked away. “Like teaching a child,” Pea said. James glared. “I mean, a very ill-behaved child unlike our fine young lad.” “You know, you’re not very good at lying.” “We Erdluitle’s don’t lie. We fib.” Pea stopped, turned and put his hands on his hips. “Fib?” James gave a questioning look. “To fib is to lie without intending to get away with it.” “So, you lie and get caught?” Darl said scruffily. Pea whirled around, said, “Well I don’t expect someone of your stature to understand the complexities of Erdluitle culture” and stormed off along the pass. James and Darl continued. Then Darl turned and said, “I think I’ve insulted him.” “Very likely,” James said, laughing. Then the two wound their way through the mire of rocks and settling dust. A few hours passed before they managed to slip out of the
Chapter Fifteen: To Ti’nagal
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) Hours passed and the morning slid away into afternoon. The sun rose high in the sky casting short shadows along the mountain face. James slung his freshly washed pack and all his other items over his shoulder. His sword was tied snugly to his pack and he looked longingly at the wall of trees ahead. Ti’nagal lay far below the mountain, to the east. He wished he could see it from where he stood. He knew the risk of going there. If Luthien is there, he thought. James had not quite gotten over the horrible battle, and he knew that it would take far more time than a few hours, and more than a warm and soothing bath, to clear his mind of all the horrors and fear than blew through him like a torrent of wind. Yet he refused to see his reaction as abnormal. He had seen far too much death in the last couple of days to believe that he was weak. I’m only twelve. Pea and Darl stood by, looking to where the mountainside declined to the east. “We should be able to reach Ti’nagal tomorrow evening,” Darl said, running his hands through his beard. “You are welcome to join us.” Indicating the Lean. “I have nothing left in this sacred place. And I would not wish to remain here knowing that my guard has fallen and the place I was bound to look after has become a corrupted bough of carnage.” The Lean shifted as if wind passed through him. “Very well.” Then Darl started off into the trees. Pea and James followed and the Lean simply glided through the shadows, appearing here, disappearing there, and reappearing again. This time there was no path to follow. Darl had to push his way through the brush and bushes, trampling anything else that got in his way. Birds chirped in protest; squirrels and other small animals scurried away as their hiding places were crushed to the ground. James didn’t like it, destroying things along the way, but he realized that there was no other way through the woods that would lead to Ti’nagal. The woods, however, did not last long. Soon the trees and brush broke away to expose a mishmash of rock—boulders dozens of times larger than James, cliffs that fell to regions unknown, and farther below a massive chasm that divided the mountain into two pieces. Beyond he could see a short field that stopped abruptly as an immense tree line formed—the Forest of Gall. Ti’nagal lay some distance away where the mountains blocked his vision. He knew there were rivers there too, many that Luthien would be forced to cross to take the city. James had not read about Ti’nagal in the etiquette book, but he got the impression that it was not a large city—not like Arlin City. We can’t stay there long. Luthien will destroy that place too. How much of his army survived the battle in Arlin City? How many will survive Afeir? There were other places in the valley too, he remembered. Nirlum sat not too far from Arlin City, and there were villages throughout the entire valley. Those villages would be burnt to the ground in minutes. He shivered the thoughts away. He couldn’t think about it anymore. Darl guided them down the hill at a fast pace. James slipped and fell several times; Pea luckily had the strong hands of someone far bigger than him—namely James—to catch him in his moments of inelegance. The Lean had the easiest journey of them all seeing how he could neither be affected by the physical world, nor could he affect it. He simply glided along, occasionally passed in and out of shadow, and seemed otherwise unhindered by the foreboding journey. High noon passed and the sun rested above the point of the mountain behind them. Darl paused every so often for no more than a few minutes. James, though despising the journey and wanting to collapse and take a breather every moment, refused to stop for too long. Ti’nagal would not be visible for hours and he didn’t want to get lost in the dark trying to find it. Hours glided by as if they were minutes. Darl avoided the crack down the middle of the mountain, instead cutting across the mountain face to the eastern side. The occasional sprout of trees forced them to take a longer route, but slowly, and surely, they reached the bottom of the mountain into grassland. Far off was the Forest of Gall and James came to realize just has massive it truly was. The trees were tall, larger than the redwoods back home he had become familiar with. They were so tall that their twisted limbs and branches made them look almost as if they were living beings. He imagined them with faces just as twisted. Darl allowed them to rest for a moment and James, though anxious to get on with the journey, gratefully took the opportunity to site down. Darl passed the pouch of water around and everyone but the Lean took their fill. James felt stronger now, more so than when he had first come to the Farthland. Something had happened to him, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it had to do with his mentality on the whole situation. Regardless, he began to sense that his endurance had increased and it couldn’t have been entirely from all the physical strain he had been forced to deal with. “We need to move soon,” Darl said. “Ti’nagal could easily be a day and a half journey from here.” The Lean appeared next to James. James flinched,
Chapter Fourteen: Of Corrupted Passings and the Eighth Day
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) Pack slung over his back, sword securely attached, James marched through the long corridor. Unlike the previous corridor, this one contained no rooms or alternate passageways. It rode straight arrow into the mountain. The Lean slipped in and out of shadow seemingly at random, though James knew there was some point to it. The corridor, like the other areas he had seen, was lit by a luminescence that James could not quite explain. He had read somewhere that ancient cultures used mirrors to reflect sunlight into poorly lit areas, but as he glanced around he saw no such mirrors, nor any place where one could place them. The corridor was practically bare, with exception to the continuous stream of symbols and designs. James remained utterly silent and fixed in thought. He looked at his hands, at the dried blood encrusted under his finger nails, and mentally shivered. I had no choice, he thought. They were evil creatures. He wondered if the corrupted Masters still bore a small portion of who they once were. Could their good selves feel the pain? He shook away the thought. He couldn’t think about their pain—no matter how real it may have been. Their faces had shown him enough. The corridor opened up into a small octagonal room. Each edge, aside from the one containing the corridor, had a single door. James secretly hoped they led into rooms and not more tunnels. The Lean paused at one of the doors and turned back, or rather materialized his face in the back of his head. “Master Willup is here,” the Lean said. “I will have him open the door.” The Lean faded away. A moment later the sound of latches unlocking could be heard. Then the door slid open with a creak. Master Willup appeared. James gasped. Master Willup’s face was sunken—just like the corrupted Masters, now beyond dead and left to rot far behind. Two pale blue eyes peered out under drooping folds of skin. Long black sags hung above Master Willup’s cheeks and wiry, unkempt hair gave James the impression of a homeless man. Even the dying man’s hands looked misshapen. “Welcome,” Master Willup coughed, then continued, “…to Arnur.” Then the old man collapsed, sliding down the edge of the door only to land hard on the ground in a pile of saggy robes and old flesh. When Master Willup woke the look of death was even more pronounced. An awful disease inflicted the man. James kept his distance. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to catch it. As much as magic seemed to run rampant throughout Traea, he could only place so much trust in medical science here. The dying Master made Darl look like a youngster. More and more the Master began to look like the corrupted beasts that had attacked James. Thin, wheezy breaths were all that the man could produce. The room that Master Willup had locked himself into was nothing more than a bedroom fixed with a small stove, a straw bed covered in scratchy blankets, and a dark oak stool. Pea sat next to Master Willup on the bed casting short healing spells that did nothing more than relieve some of the man’s pain. Pea was no healer and James could not wield this type of magic. Darl took watch at the door leaving it slightly cracked. James took the stool and sat on the far side of the room. The Lean paced the corridor. “I have not seen such darkness in a hundred years,” Master Willup said. “Master Kellan, Warren, all corrupted beyond reason.” Master Willup coughed weakly. “How could this have happened? You’re holy men, preachers of the Great Fathers.” Peas said. “Even the most resolute can be weak of mind. I was able to withstand the corruption, but this disease now afflicts me,” Master Willup paused to cough, weaker than before. “It was the one who calls himself Nara’karesh. A beast from Loe.” “A lyphon,” James said, remembering the blood thirsty creature that had nearly killed him. Master Willup’s pale blue eyes dug into him. “If such a creature must be given a name it would be Loespawn. Evil runs through its heart, blood, and flesh. Not an inch of it is untouched by Loe.” “I thought lyphons can’t use magic.” “They can’t,” Pea broke in. “No magic was used. Not by the creature. He brought with him the blood from the land of Loe, straight from the great seas that run crimson with the suffering of the damned.” “The lyphon knew we were coming here,” Darl said. “That door was set as a trap for you.” Darl pointed at James. James shook his head. It had all been a trap, set by some dark magic. All he had had to do was touch the door. Luthien is so strong. He remembered Luthien’s army. How many were there? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? The army had been so large that he hadn’t been able to tell its size. He had just seen dark silver armor stretching across the plain, surrounding the oak tree that made its home there. “Darkness descends on the Farthland,” Master Willup said. “If the lyphon was here…” Darl cut him off. “He could come back.” “It won’t be long before Luthien learns of the failure to destroy James.” Pea’s voice grew with concern. James closed his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what they were going to do next. Luthien’s influence seemed endless. Even in places thought sacred and hidden. How the lyphon had gained entrance into Arnur over night, let alone learned which path was the right one, was beyond him. “Come, someone aid me to my death. My judgment is