Storm clouds that early morning had hinted of still loomed to the east, slowly progressing westward with the passing of the day, but it was not clouds that marred the sky and made the day seem drab. It was the dust, and the folded cloth wrapped around his face did little to help matters either.
The dust blew into Vilmos' eyes and made it painfully difficult to stay alert as Xith had asked, and it obscured what could have been a clear day—if you could call a blood red sky with eerie yellow clouds in the distance a clear day. Everything that grew along their path was stunted from the lack of light the eternal dust storms created. Strange blue grasses bunched up in large, thick clumps made the horses falter often. The wind carried with it the occasional tumbleweed, which in addition to the unbearable dust harassed them. Ahead in the distance, grew scattered groves of trees, which also appeared to be of the same unhealthy variety of plants as the grasses.
Progress across the windswept land was slow and it was nearly an hour before they wound their way to the first stand of trees, which as they passed through, struck Vilmos as oddities. The stunted trees had knotted trunks, thick at the base with sudden spurts of thin and thick in between their wide outreaching arches, and at the very tips of these wide outreaching boughs were sickly yellow-green leaves.
For a time, it seemed they jumped between the stunted clusters of trees, playing leapfrog with the dead land, then for a long time afterward, it seemed the dead land had swallowed them.
A large grove, formed from several smaller groves that many long years of persistent growth had matured, was ahead. In the center of this large grove was a small clearing formed from the odd felling of the largest tree, which had for a millennium served as the center piece of the grove, but now lay wasted, oddly smitten by the same elements that had spawned its growth.
"Can we stop here for a minute and catch our breaths?" asked Vilmos wearily, pulling the mask down as he did so.
"Only for a moment," replied Xith, "even though we're out of the open, it is best to be a mobile target."
"Target for what?" began Vilmos, just as several somethings dropped out of the trees around them.
Humanoid, or at least human-like, the creatures had tough, scaly, green skin, clawed hands and feet. Vilmos covered his nose with his hand as he breathed in their putrid stench. His stomach churned and it was all he could do to keep from throwing up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glimmer of white fangs flash and the next instant he smacked into the ground in pain. Xith glared at the creature perched on Vilmos' chest about to rake his head from his shoulders. A blue flame shot out from the shaman's hand, striking the creature full force, engulfing it in flames.
Vilmos tossed the screeching beast off him. It slumped to the ground and did not move again. Feeling helpless Vilmos looked worriedly to Xith, his body frozen to the ground, his mind not allowing him to move. He could only see the faces and watch. A tingling sensation surged through his arm, perhaps the letting of warm blood across cool skin.
"Come on Vilmos, snap to it!" yelled Xith as he dispatched another of the creatures. He called out with more words, but frantic howls snatched them from the air.
A creature dropped down beside Vilmos, its eyes moved to the ground where its companion lay and then it lunged. Instinctively, Vilmos threw up his shield, barely in time as the creature's claw struck the barrier and glanced off.
The raising of the shield was as the turning of a switch that brought awareness to Vilmos. He searched for Xith, only to find the shaman was gone. Three creatures circled him, watching his every move, waiting for the right instant to pounce.
In alarm, Vilmos cried out, but no answer came. He was afraid, something might have happened to Xith, though he didn't know what or how. He watched the beasts carefully as they came for him one by one, shivering increasingly with each successful reflection.
"Xith!" he shouted with all the strength of his voice. No answer again. "Xith, are you hurt?" he called out. Again, nothing.
Fear built up within him, if Xith was dead so was he. He couldn't possibly survive where Xith had failed. More of the creatures came. They surrounded him on all sides. Gradually they crept forward, their stench overwhelmed Vilmos' senses, the putrid odor of rotting flesh. "Xith couldn't be dead. He was the only real friend I ever had," thought Vilmos.
As if in response, a knifelike claw broke through his barrier and caught him in the shoulder. The pain was excruciating and filled him with anger and fear. His thoughts turned to Xith. He could feel the anguish Xith must have felt.
"For this you shall die!" rang his voice.
A flame sparked from outstretched hands, striking one of the beasts dead in the chest, and in a burst of flame the creature died. Surprised at the power that surged in him, Vilmos shouted in glee, a wicked smile touching his lips. He released the power within again and two more fell to the ground.
He whirled to face the last two. He didn't know how but he detected terror in their expressions as they started to flee. "You shall not run away from me foul creatures!" he boasted, with a loud booming voice, as flames bright and deadly sprang forth from outstretched hands.
The creatures' last sounds were agonized cries of pure pain. Vilmos almost pitied them.
As the frenzy in his mind passed, he stood shocked, simply amazed at what he had wrought for many long minutes. Tears rolled down his face and his words were drowned in sobs. He sank to the ground; he was alone. Xith was gone without a trace.
It took quite awhile, but finally Vilmos rose to his feet and wiped his tears away. The wound in his side and shoulder ached but luckily were not too deep. His thoughts returned to concerns about Xith's whereabouts. He thought perhaps the creatures had dragged the body off to feast upon the carcass and he began a search that took him well into the evening.
As night fell, exhausted, he set up camp within the grove and although he wasn't really hungry, he ate all of what little rations he had on his person. He made a bed amongst the boughs of the great fallen tree, unaware of the tiny seedling nestled within the tangles of the shattered trunk and once proud roots, nor was he aware that it was the spirit of the great tree itself that had bidden him to start the warding fire. He only knew the horses were gone, Xith was gone, and he was desperately alone in a place that was completely foreign to him.
Troubled sleep found Vilmos a short while later.
Instinctively, Adrina covered her ears, but it was to no avail, for she could not block thoughts from her mind. She touched her hand to Seth's and gripped it tightly, saying sternly, "Relax, Galan is fine. She is sleeping in the next bed, there…"
Across the room to the bed, Seth followed the line of her arm. He sighed upon seeing Galan's sleeping form, the Father had truly granted his wish. "How long have I slept?"
Adrina replied, "Since the day before yesterday."
"And Galan?"
"She started to recover almost immediately. She is growing stronger with each new day. She hasn't said very much and she would not leave your side."
Seth replied as he kissed her hand, "I owe you my life and among my people when one saves another's life it is theirs from then on."
"Hush, get some rest and you will be up on the 'morrow. The council wishes to speak with you then."
"What is wrong with now?" This was more of a statement than a question. Seth didn't see why he couldn't sit before it now. The power of speech didn't tax his weakened condition, he could still think and thus talk.
"Shh!" said Adrina thrusting out a restraining hand, "They will wait. Tomorrow is a better day."
Adrina soothed him until he drifted back to sleep, making him drink some broth along the course. She waited until he had passed into deep slumber before she left his side. She checked on Galan, surprised Seth's outburst hadn't awoken her.
Adrina's chambers were not far off and her aim was to steal several hours of much needed sleep. She wouldn't be allowed the luxury so soon. She only made it as far as the hall before running into Keeper Q'yer. "How could you, keeper?" demanded Adrina, knowing Keeper Q'yer's presence could mean only one thing, the council had come to the end to their patience.
"How could I what?" countered Q'yer.
"You know what I am talking about. We must wait."
"Princess, I must be frank with you, the council can wait no more. I see no reason to delay."
"Would you disturb a man on his deathbed?" demanded Adrina.
"He isn't dying," replied Keeper Q'yer, attempting to calm her.
"Does Father Jacob know you came here?" asked Adrina, further tempting the wrath of the man's office. A short time ago she wouldn't have had the nerve to put demands on a keeper, but things were different now.
"Under the circumstances, I elected to come to see the stranger. Father Jacob knows I am here." The keeper attempted to move past her. "I must know for myself."
"Couldn't it be prolonged just one extra day?" yelled Adrina after him, "I am sure by then he will be fully recovered. His companion should also be able to attend, then you can have them both."
Adrina followed Q'yer back into the room and then back into the hall. As she did so, she saw Father Jacob standing at the hall's far end—a torch in its iron bracket cast an orange glow behind him. He raised a finger to her lips, she was not to say anything about his presence; she didn't, she only continued her plea, using diplomacy where other tactics had failed. "I will go to my father if need be," she argued, using her last bargaining chip, "he will listen to reason."
The keeper eyed her. "I am afraid that will do no good. See that the strangers are ready for council by noon time tomorrow."
Adrina shouted to the departing keeper, "Their names are Seth and Galan. Brother Seth and Brother Galan… They are not strangers. They are friends."
"Don't be cross with me, I am only performing as told," yelled Keeper Q'yer back to her as he disappeared into the shadows of the hall, heading in the opposite direction from Father Jacob.
Adrina almost screamed another response to him, but a restraining hand to her lips stopped her short. Father Jacob had come up behind her and was now standing beside her. "I am sorry, Father Jacob, it is just…"
"What love will do to you," said Jacob.
"What?" said Adrina, losing her chain of thought. She laughed then.
"So which lucky, young lord is it? Your father has paraded them by all week and for the life of me, I don't know how you have the time for them and our guests. Is it Rudden Klaiveson at last?"
Adrina spoke her mind, her tongue racing, "The answer is rather simple, I don't. I send them away with such a parting that they will never return to Imtal Proper, though I always tell father I had a wonderful time with this one or that one. Rudden is the only on who keeps coming back. You wouldn't tell, would you, Father Jacob?"
Jacob smiled. "I must be going, child… so much to prepare. Good-bye."
"Wait a minute," she told him, "What about the meeting?"
"Didn't you listen to what Keeper Q'yer said, he said 'tomorrow at noon'—you won. I'll come back later. I have some more elixir for you to mix into the broth." Jacob smiled and strode off.
It wasn't until an instant later that she finally realized that Father Jacob had sent the keeper to her on purpose. She ran down the corridor after him, catching up to him just before he got safely away. Out of breath from running, she yelled, "You sent him to me, didn't you?"
Jacob replied simply, not breaking his stride, "I did."
"Why?" she demanded again.
"Don't fret so, he listened to you did he not?" replied Jacob.
"Yes," said Adrina.
"Well there you have it," said Jacob as he continued to walk away.