The Final Battle

Chapter 1

Retaliation and Retribution

RION walked through the Market with two of his guards, Jathran and Lerdon, admiring the cloudless blue sky. It was a beautiful sunny day and would have been perfect for traveling had they not only just finished their long journey from Athanark here to Gosa, their new home. Rion turned, smiling, as he heard a familiar voice call his name and spotted three of the Ogaten brothers.

Ron, Ara, Gar! We haven’t seen you for weeks! How have the three of you been? Although all three of their former guards still wore their swords, Ron and Ara were dressed in richer clothes than he had ever seen them in, while Gar was still in his old guard’s livery, though he was now guarding his older brothers instead of Rion and his guardian, Tarrell.

Ron smiled fondly at him. We’re doing well. Business has been good. And you’ve got your cast off! Your arm’s healed well? It doesn’t pain you?

Not at all! It’s as good as new, see, Rion assured him, flexing and twisting his arm. I’ve even been sparring with Tarrell, to keep in practice, though there’s little need with Jathran and Lerdon and Rarnak to guard us.

You still haven’t found a fourth guard? Gar asked, surprised and concerned.

Not yet, but we will. Few good men are interested in guarding a pair of merchants in the City. It’s too boring! They want adventure and bonuses, the kind guarding a caravan brings. None of the men who were interested were good enough. Or maybe we’re too picky! You four are hard to measure up to, you know. But we’re doing fine. Enough about us! How are Van and Liana? Rion asked, eager for news of their youngest brother and his new wife.

Ara grinned. They couldn’t be happier. The inn’s open for business, and Liana’s expecting.

Already? That’s wonderful! Rion said, beaming.

How about we come by the shop later and talk? We’d love to catch up on everything, but we’ve got someone we need to see, Ron said apologetically.

Of course! Stop by any time. You know the door’s always open for all of you.

They parted company, and the brothers were quickly lost in the swirl of shoppers. The Market was bustling this morning. Rion would have to visit Ogaten with a gift for Van and Liana, but he had no idea what they might need. He’d have to ask Van’s brothers later today when he saw them again.

Rion walked past a stall selling ceramic dishes with only a quick glance and headed toward another, this one offering wood carvings that appeared to be of exceptional quality. Just as he reached it, he heard an odd sound, like the flapping of a bird’s wings, only far too loud to be. A large shadow fell across the ground before him. He was surprised; there hadn’t been any clouds a moment ago. He looked up as he heard a horse scream in terror, the screams of two women joining it.

Frozen in shock, he stared at the nightmare descending from the sky directly above him. It was an impossible creature, with the sleekly furred head and forepaws of a long-fanged cat, a pumar, but scaly reptilian hindquarters and belly, and a tail like a snake. The hind feet were like the taloned claws of a giant eagle, and the wings were an eagle’s as well, only of enormous proportion, to scale with the rest of the beast. It was the monster Uncle Farion had told him of in Ardock six years ago―it seemed a lifetime ago―somehow come to life again. A chimaera, Hardred had called it.

But even more horrible was the thing riding astride it. It had the body of a man, but the head of a wolven. It was naked, and it was staring at something held in its left hand. Rion could not tear his eyes away as the wolven-man’s gaze left its hand and its yellow eyes fixed upon Rion. It bared its fangs in a hideous rictus of triumph.

Before Rion could move, Jathran and Lerdon had drawn their swords and leapt protectively in front of him. Rion belatedly drew his own blade, barely able to clear the scabbard for the shaking of his hand.

The Market around them had erupted into chaos. People were screaming and running everywhere. Rion could hear them, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the creatures as they dove to attack them.

As the chimaera swooped down toward them, it lashed out at Jathran and Lerdon with its forepaws. It was so fast! The claws of its right paw sliced downward, raking Jathran’s face and chest before he could even bring his blade up, and he fell. Lerdon was faster. He parried the paw that slashed toward him with his sword. Rion saw blood well from the thing’s foreleg as the blade scored it. But then its left rear leg jerked out and down, exactly like a hunting bird striking its prey, and Lerdon fell too. Rion saw that the monster’s talons dripped red.

Rion ran, expecting at any moment to feel agony in his back as the thing tore it to ribbons, astonished that he yet remained whole. There was a laden wagon! If he could just get under it!

As he dove for cover, he heard the terrible flapping sound overhead, accompanied by the screaming roar of a hunting cat. The cry raised the hairs along the back of his neck, even as the heavy wagon was lifted off of him, as if it weighed nothing. The creature had it in its rear talons, leaving its forepaws free to attack. How could it be so strong?

It tossed the wagon into a panicked mob of people, and there were screams, some of them abruptly cut off as people were crushed by the shattering wagon and crates of goods. The horrible thing with the yellow eyes leered at him, ignoring the dozens of other fleeing men, women, and children. It was hunting him!

Unexpectedly, a flight of arrows hit the chimaera. One imbedded in its left shoulder, but the other three glanced harmlessly off its scaled back and belly. The chimaera roared in fury and pivoted midair, turning to head for the four City Guard, standing less than fifty feet from him with bows in their hands, who had so bravely attacked it.

They desperately nocked more arrows, but only two of the four were fast enough to let them fly. Both those arrows flew wild, and then the monsters were upon them, the chimaera clawing and rending with forepaws and rear talons, the rider engaging them as well, with fangs and a dagger. Knowing he was powerless to save them, Rion turned and ran, sobbing as he heard their screams abruptly end.

He dodged over and around boxes and bags and bodies. The ground was littered with things people had dropped or knocked over in escaping the creatures, as well as people who had either been injured or trampled in the ensuing chaos. Rion tripped and fell, landing hard, and stared in horror at what had once been a face. He could tell from the livery and hair alone that the body was Jathran’s. A shadow and a rush of air passed overhead, and Rion realized the creature had dived over him, missing him only because he had fallen.

Rion looked around frantically from where he lay. He saw people everywhere, cowering under wagons, in stalls, in doorways; there was nowhere left to hide, no cover near enough. He stood then, shaking, and raised his sword as the creature came for him. Its paws lashed out and he vainly slashed at them, knowing it was his turn to die. But though the chimaera knocked the keen-edged blade from his hand, as easily as a kitten bats away a ball of yarn, it did not hurt him. Instead, to his horror, he felt hands grasping for him, and he looked up directly into those nightmarish yellow wolven eyes. He could smell the fetid breath of the panting wolven-man, and he almost vomited in terror when drool splattered down upon his face as he felt himself lifted from the ground.

This could not be happening to him! He was supposed to have been safe here! How could this thing be here when the Elven Kingdoms yet stood?

He kicked fruitlessly as he was dragged onto the back of the beast, in front of the wolven-man. But then the cat-creature screamed in rage and pain and wheeled around, a trio of arrows miraculously sprouting from its right shoulder. The chimaera had pivoted so violently that Rion almost slid from the wolven-man’s grasp, even as hope flared.

Hope turned quickly to horror as Rion saw it was Ron, Ara, and Gar standing over the fallen City Guard, bows raised, and he realized they had retrieved the Guardsmen’s bows to try to save him. They had wounded the creature, and now it was going to kill them for it! It would tear them apart as easily as it had the men at their feet, as effortlessly as the wolven and their riders had massacred all but one of his guards outside Athanark.

No, not them! No more would die for him! Rion twisted and kicked and pulled, and suddenly he and the wolven-man were falling from the sky.

Hitting the ground hard, on his back, Rion huffed as the breath was knocked from him. Fortunately they had still been close to the ground. The wolven-man landed lightly on its feet and came for Rion, grinning, rows of glistening fangs showing.

Rion kicked upward with all his might, between the thing’s legs as it reached him, and it howled in agony and rage as it fell to its knees on top of him. He saw its eyes burn with hate as whatever reason it once had fled from it. It had not hurt him before, but now those terrible teeth were coming for his throat.

As he desperately raised his arm to block the savage attack, a vision of Tarrell flashed into Rion’s mind, of his ripped arm, the muscle and bone showing through the blood. He felt the razor points of the thing’s teeth and pain, but not agony, as the monster shuddered. Its jaws did not close upon his arm as he expected. Instead, the creature fell forward, twitching, pinning him with its weight. Rion pushed frantically against it, and it toppled off of him and fell to the ground. He saw the quick flash of a blade and then booted feet by his head.

Rion realized someone was speaking to him, but the words made no sense, as he lay there shaking violently and gasping. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t utter a sound. The words wouldn’t come. He heard a whining sound, and thinking it was the wolven-man, turned toward it in terror.

There were three arrows protruding in a neat cluster from the back of its skull, and it had been beheaded as well. He realized then that he was the one whining, whimpering, and fought to stop.

RION, are you all right? Elmoth, look at him, he can’t even hear me, Ron said in despair.

Ron, his arm, Gar said, horrified.

Quiet, Gar! Ron snapped as he set his bloody sword onto the body of the werewolven he’d just beheaded, knelt down beside Rion, and grasped him by the shoulders.

SOMEONE was shaking him. Rion felt strong hands around his shoulders and he struggled. Abruptly, water cascaded over his hair and face, drenching him. He stopped resisting as the world snapped back into focus. He knew the arms, the voices, the words. R-R-Ron, he forced out, his teeth chattering badly.

Thank Elmoth! It’s all right, Rion. You’re safe now. It’s dead. They’re both dead. Can you stand? Ron asked, releasing Rion’s shoulders and reaching out a hand to aid him.

Rion nodded, accepting the hand, and stood shakily. Ron put his arm about Rion to steady him.

Rion examined his arm fearfully. He hadn’t thought he was gravely wounded, until he’d heard the fear in Gar’s voice. He was relieved to see he was barely bleeding. He wasn’t hurt even as badly as Talon had been, and Talon had healed quickly and fully.

Rion studied the body of the chimaera. There was an arrow protruding from each eye and another from its mouth. He marveled anew at the brothers’ bow work.

People began shakily coming out of hiding, to the jingle of chainmail and the sound of running feet. Rion’s gaze fell upon Jathran and Lerdon, lying where they had fallen, and he cried out in dismay.

The four of them went to their two fallen friends and knelt beside them.

Gar stared in horror at Jathran’s face. Elmoth, was I as bad as that? Gar asked, looking up at Ara, who nodded grimly.

Rion knew this time not even the Elves could save Jathran, as they had saved Gar after the obearn had mauled both him and Ara.

Ron confirmed what Rion already knew. I’m sorry, Rion. Jathran is dead.

Ara said sadly, Lerdon’s gone too.

N-N-Not a-a…. Rion’s brow creased with the effort, but he couldn’t speak further. He’d meant to say, Not again. I hadn’t wanted anyone to ever die for me again, but he couldn’t. What was wrong with him? He’d been afraid before. He’d been terrified by the ogres in the mountains, when he had thought they wanted to take him to their village and eat him. He’d been so afraid he’d passed out. And when he had seen Jargas’s eyes burning and feared Circe had yet ensorcelled his friend and had tricked him, when he’d been certain he was going to die, he’d stuttered a little. But he’d not lost his voice even then.

You there! You’re coming with us, a hard voice said, and they all looked up.

There were three of the City Guard standing a few feet behind them, their swords drawn and pointed at them.

What’s the meaning of this? Ron asked, incensed.

You’re all under arrest. We’ve two dozen witnesses who say that thing came for the boy specifically, that it chased him. We’ve got at least a dozen dead, four of them Guard. We’re going to find out what the boy knows. And the three of you are carrying our fallen Guards’ bows. Now drop your weapons, all of you!

Ron removed and dropped the quiver in disgust. He’d already set the bow down. We took the bows to slay the beasts! We’ve no intention of keeping them. Would you rather we’d let them kill more people?

The Guard’s eyes narrowed. The boy’s a wizard, and you’re too friendly with him by far. No one could make shots like that without magic helping him, he said, pointing to the fallen winged cat-creature with the tip of his sword.

Ron rolled his eyes. The thing’s head wasn’t ten feet from us! We couldn’t miss! he said scornfully, as he picked up his sword.

Your swords, too, and silence your tongue or I’ll silence it for you! the Guard said, fuming, likely both at Ron’s disrespectful attitude and the implication of incompetence against the fallen Guard. Rion reluctantly dropped his sword and Gar followed suit, as did Ara.

Ara put a restraining hand on Ron’s shoulder. Ron, you’re not helping us any.

Ron cursed and dropped his sword as well.

G-G-Guardian T-T-T-T…, Rion forced out, but try as he might, he couldn’t say Tarrell’s name.

Another of the Guard said, Captain, the boy’s scared out of his wits. Look at him! I know we have to arrest him, but can’t we at least….

The Captain glared at him and he fell silent.

B-B-Bury, Rion said explosively, stomping his foot as if to force the word from his mouth as he pointed at Jathran and Lerdon. Why wouldn’t his tongue do what his mind told it to?

Gar spoke in his stead to the Guard. He’s trying to tell you he wants his guardian, and to be sure his guards get a decent burial. Gar turned to Rion. Rion, I’m sure they’ll take care of them. You need to calm down. We’ll be with you. You’ll be safe until Tarrell comes for you. He turned back to the Guard. The trader Tarrell’s his guardian. They’ve a shop on Amster Way.

Another squad of City Guard approached. Bolstered by the added numbers, the Captain said sharply. All right, move it! You can tell it to the interrogators.

Rion paled, and Ron put his arm about him again and urged him forward.

TALIA burst into the shop. Tarrell! Rarnak! Are you here?

Tarrell came out from behind a display. Talia! What’s wrong, what’s happened? he asked, as she rushed into his arms.

Oh, Tarrell! I was afraid you were in the Market. I thought you might have been killed! Is Rarnak here, too? Is he safe?

Apparently hearing his sister’s voice, Rarnak came out from the back room as Tarrell paled. Talia, what happened at the Market?

The monsters! They came out of the sky and started killing people. Jenny was there. She told me she ran for her life as it threw a wagon at her. It nearly crushed her. She….

Rion! He’s there! Tarrell cried, cutting her off, terrified for him. Rarnak, come on! He headed for the door with Rarnak, and Talia followed, wide-eyed with horror at the thought Rion had been there too.

TARRELL stared in frustration when they arrived. They couldn’t even get close to the Market. There was a huge crowd of people rimming it.

Rarnak said confidently, I’ll get us through. He started shouldering people roughly aside, shouting Make way! Step aside! and glaring at any who protested, hand on his sword hilt. Most people moved aside when they saw the uniform, even though it wasn’t the uniform of the City Guard, perhaps figuring he must have business there.

Tarrell gaped in shock and dismay when they broke clear of the crowd. The Market was a shambles. Things were overturned and spilled everywhere, and there was a row of what appeared to be bodies, under blankets, in the middle of it. Off to the side was another covered body, and something huge lay near it, under a tarp.

Hey! You there! The Market’s closed! We don’t want any gawkers here, a City Guard said, coming toward them, appearing annoyed.

Please! I’m looking for someone: my ward, Rion. He has light-brown hair and blue eyes. He’s dressed in fine clothes. He’d be with two guards, with uniforms like this, Tarrell said, pointing toward Rarnak.

The Guard looked about to protest further as he glanced at Rarnak, but then stopped walking and scrutinized his livery carefully. His expression became grim. They’re here. The Lady should stay here, though. She shouldn’t see them. It’s not pretty.

Tarrell started breathing fast and shallowly as the Guard began leading him and Rarnak to the row of covered bodies. Oh, Elmoth! Rion!

The Guard pulled aside a blanket. Tarrell recognized Lerdon. Something had sliced him open from throat to groin. His entrails were hanging out in a ragged, bloody clump. That’s Lerdon, one of our guards, Tarrell said hoarsely.

The Guard scratched his name with a stylus on a piece of slate and then pulled aside the blanket beside Lerdon’s body.

Jathran. Tarrell could only tell from the uniform and the hair. There was a bloody ruin where his face had been. That’s Jathran, he choked out, fighting not to vomit.

The Guard wrote that as well and reached for the next blanket.

Shaking, Tarrell turned to see. He could tell the body beneath was shorter than the other two, and more narrow at the shoulders. He forced himself to look as the blanket was pulled away.

He almost fainted in relief. It wasn’t Rion. It was a boy with brown hair. His eyes were closed, so Tarrell couldn’t see the color. He was younger than Rion and had been crushed or trampled. He shook his head, That’s not him. It’s not Rion, he said, feeling a wild rush of relief, even as his heart went out to the boy’s family.

Rarnak said, Can we check the others?

There’s no other boys that I saw, but we can make sure, the Guard agreed.

They checked the rest of the bodies, but none of them were Rion.

Where were the injured taken? Tarrell asked. Rion would have either come back to the shop or stayed with the bodies of his friends. He’d only have done otherwise if he were badly injured or unconscious and couldn’t.

Everywhere. They— the Guard started to say, but was interrupted.

What’s going on here, Regus? a sharp voice asked.

Captain! This man is searching for his ward. Those two guards are his, but the boy isn’t the right one.

The Captain’s eyes narrowed. Light-brown hair, blue eyes, rich clothes, dressed in blue? he asked, eyeing Tarrell’s own fancy attire and Rarnak’s uniform.

Tarrell felt suddenly weak with fear again. That’s him. Please, tell me where he is! Tell me what’s happened to him!

He’s been arrested for wizardry, and multiple counts of murder, assault, and destruction of property. If you’re his guardian, since he’s under age, then you’re legally responsible for his crimes as well. You’re under arrest, the Captain said coldly.

What? But Rion’s no wizard, and neither am I! And he’d never hurt anyone! Why would you even think such a thing? Tarrell exclaimed, shocked.

We’ll ask the questions! the man snapped at Tarrell. He turned to Rarnak. You, if you work for him, you’re under arrest, too. Both of you surrender your swords.

TALIA stared wide-eyed from the edge of the Market. She’d seen the naked despair on Tarrell’s face when he had looked at the first two bodies and then the relief. From his reaction, Rion must be the one he hadn’t seen. He’d viewed the rest of the bodies and talked animatedly with the Guard. But then another Guard came and suddenly Tarrell and Rarnak were surrendering their swords. The Guard called out to the others and more came, surrounding them. She realized they were being arrested, though she had no idea why. She knew better than to confront them about it herself. Instead, she turned and began forcing her way back through the crowd. She had to tell Madame Genevieve, the seamstress she worked for. She had connections at the Palace. She’d know what to do.

RION couldn’t stop shaking. He’d felt cold, even before they had entered the stone building and descended the stairs. It was dark and damp here, and the air smelled stale. It was so cold, his teeth were chattering again. His hair and shirt were still wet from the water Gar had dumped on him in the Market.

This couldn’t be happening! How could this be happening to him? That thing had tried to capture him, and now he was being blamed, as if he’d loosed it upon his own guards. He stifled a sob. They were dead! Lerdon and Jathran were dead!

He was pushed into a cell. There was a wooden cot, though only the frame, no padding. A thin, worn gray blanket lay in a heap upon it. The rest of the room was of featureless rough stone, except for a pair of rusted iron manacles on the wall and an empty sconce by the door for a torch. The Ogaten brothers were still in the hall. Apparently, he was going to be locked in here alone.

The City Guard began leading him to the wall, to the rusty shackles.

Chain him, the Captain commanded.

Rion felt suddenly weak and fell to his knees.

The Captain grabbed him roughly by the collar at the back of his neck. On your feet! he demanded, but Rion couldn’t stand. He would have fallen in a heap but for the hand on his collar. Suit yourself, the Captain said coldly. Drag him! he ordered the Guard, as he pushed Rion forward. His men caught Rion, grabbed him by his armpits, and began dragging him to the chains.

RON had tried to keep quiet, but he couldn’t, seeing how terrified Rion was and how cruelly they were treating him. Rion was like a baby brother to all of them, even Van. At sixteen, Rion was only a year younger than Van, but he was over a head shorter and still had a boy’s build, though he’d officially come-of-age on their journey. You can’t! He’s just a boy! He hasn’t done anything! At least let us in there with him! Can’t you see he’s terrified? He can’t even speak! Ron begged, outraged on Rion’s behalf.

If he truly couldn’t speak then he wouldn’t be able to summon anything to free him. But he can’t fool us. We’ll bind him in cold iron. Then he can speak all he wants, but his magic won’t work, the Captain said smugly. Put them in the next cell. Chain the one with the loose tongue. Maybe then he’ll learn to keep quiet.

RION heard the footsteps recede and Ron’s curses, and then the sounds of a scuffle and a grunt and a thud. There was the creaking of a rusty door opening. The Guard beside Rion tested the manacles he’d fastened about Rion’s wrists and turned to go. Rion stared after the Guard, watching as the light headed for the door, terrified they were going to leave him in the dark. But mercifully, the Guard put the torch into the empty sconce by the door before he left. The door closed with the screeching whine of aged metal. It clanged shut, the bang echoing loudly across the stone all around him.

Suspended by the chains, Rion’s arms, which were held up and out over his head, hurt already. They were shaking from the strain of his weight and the cold. Rion’s feet barely reached the floor of the cell. He’d not yet attained the height of a full-grown man.

They’d taken his purse. He was relieved he’d carried so little coin, only a hundred gold. He knew he’d never see it again. He’d taken to leaving the bulk of his coin in the shop, now that they had a home. There was a loose board in the floor they hid their coin under. But the City Guard had taken the Elfstone too. He always carried it with him. It was the one token he had from Elanara, though it hadn’t been meant for him, and they’d taken it! And Tarrell wouldn’t know what happened to him. He’d be frantic searching for him. The thought that Tarrell would be looking for him warmed him a little.

Rion could hear a string of expletives coming through the bars of the little window on the door, and he recognized Ron’s voice, though he’d never heard half of the words he used.

Rion, if you can hear me, we’re all right, he heard Ara call out. I know you’re frightened, but don’t be. Tarrell will come for you. He’ll get you out.

Rion tried to respond, but he couldn’t. His teeth were still chattering violently and his tongue wouldn’t obey him at all.

He knew it was real, now. He’d known it was before, but the cold, rusted manacles about his wrists drove away any delusions that this might be some sort of fantastic nightmare, that he’d wake in his own bed, warm and safe. He had to get mastery over his tongue again. Was it fear or wizardry that had robbed him of his voice? Had Arcanus somehow found out about the message he’d given Elavar for Talon, warning Talon against him? Or was it even worse? Was it because he’d betrayed all three of the wizards, after swearing to keep silent, when he’d told Elavar too much: about Arcanus losing his powers, Magus being tainted by Incuban, and Circe changing into some terrible, dark creature of the night?

That thing hadn’t tried to kill him, as it had killed everyone else. It had tried to capture him. What horrific things would the wizards do to him, if they caught him?

He tried to calm himself, but his heart was hammering. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t utter a sound―not even the awkward stutters from before. His tongue was completely frozen.

RON was twisting and struggling in the metal cuffs that held him fast to the wall when Ara scolded him for it. Ron, stop it! All you’re doing is tearing your skin! Look at those manacles! Do you want the rust to get into your blood and kill you?

Ron cursed and tried to force himself still. He inhaled deeply and exhaled just as strongly, over and over, breathing in the sweet, cool scent of the rock all around him. It was quarried stone, but they were underground, and there was enough of it that he felt the same calm fill him that he used to find only in the secret cave he would visit late at night when he was a boy.

Long after his chores were done and he and his brothers and sister had gone to bed, he’d lay awake and then sneak off to explore the riverbank of Salenia and the surrounding Elven Wood, though both were forbidden ground. The Elves had come upon him more than once, but they had seemed more amused by his trespass than threatened by it.

He hadn’t even known what he’d been searching for, until he’d found it, a narrow crevice between two large slabs of rock peeking out from the forest loam. He’d wormed his way inside, into the darkness beyond. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dim lighting that filtered in from the entrance, and he’d started exploring his find. It was small, a single chamber with a low ceiling, but it was enough. To this day, he didn’t think his brothers had ever learned of his secret refuge from the ills of the world, from the unending pain of his childhood.

He’d lived through all of it. He’d learned to fight and survive. He’d protected his three brothers for the two years of their journey and brought them safely home. He’d even reconciled with his father and discovered he was not the monster Ron had thought him to be. And now here he was, chained like an animal in a cell, with two of his brothers beside him, and he was helpless to aid them. And worse, he was unable to protect Rion, who was smaller and weaker than Van, in body if not in spirit, and who was alone and injured.

His hard-won calm shattered. They arrested us! Just because their own Guard was too incompetent or terrified to make a decent shot, they think no one should be able to!

Ara sighed. Be fair, Ron. We would’ve been just as bad off if we’d not had Swiftsong to teach us how to focus when we shoot. All I saw was its eye as it came for us. I almost fainted when I saw clearly what I’d been shooting at, even with it dead. When we heard about chimaera in Thenalon and saw those etchings, I hadn’t believed they could be real. I thought it was some of the survivors’ madness.

That werewolven is the thing that worries me, Gar said. We were lucky we knew to aim for its head to destroy it, that it wouldn’t be affected by anything else. The chimaera even I could believe, easier than that thing. It can’t be true, can it, that when one of the werewolven bites you, you turn into one? But I didn’t think any of it was true. His eyes were wide with fear. You saw Rion’s arm. He was bitten and it drew blood and he’s losing his power of speech and….

Ara grasped him by the shoulders and shook him. Gar, stop it! I can’t believe that part of it. I won’t. What frightens me most is why it was after Rion at all. Those people were right. We saw it, too. It was hunting him, specifically. It killed anyone that got in its way. And the werewolven wasn’t interested in killing Rion, until he angered it. It was trying to fly off with him. Who wants Rion, and why, and how are we supposed to protect him when we’re prisoners ourselves? What if they come for him again, in his cell?

As if Ara’s words had summoned the evil to Rion, they heard a scream of pure terror echoing down the stone corridor.

Gar and Ara ran to their door and began banging against it and pulling at if futilely, as Ron strained against his chains. Rion! What’s happening? Rion! Ron yelled, but more screams were his only answer.

RION was staring at the torch. He remembered it had comforted Hunter to stare at a flame, that he’d used it somehow to focus his thoughts; he’d chanted over it. Hunter had told Rion he’d been chained in a cell once too. If Rion concentrated on the flame, and pretended he was on the road again, sitting by the campfire with his guards all around him, and Tarrell, maybe he might feel warmer. Maybe then he could stop shaking. Perhaps even speak. He knew the brothers were worried about him, and he ached to reassure them. But he also knew the Guard would eventually come back, that they’d want to question him about the attack in the Market. They’d never believe he couldn’t talk. They’d think he was keeping silent deliberately. They’d torture him to make him speak, and he wouldn’t be able to, and they wouldn’t stop hurting him.

This was madness! All of it! This morning he’d had breakfast and laughed and joked with Jathran and Lerdon, and now they were dead, he was going to be tortured, and Tarrell didn’t even know anything was wrong. Half the day would pass before he even started to worry, and then more time would go by before he had any hope of finding out what had happened, of figuring out where Rion was. What if even then they wouldn’t let Tarrell see him?

He was giving in to panic and despair. Neither would help. The flame would, though, he was sure of it. He focused on the torch.

But then he felt something on his leg. He glanced down and saw, to his horror, a big brown rat with beady black eyes and chiseled teeth. It started to run up his leg, toward his face. He screamed and kicked, flinging it off him, but even after it was gone, he couldn’t stop screaming and writhing in the chains.

RION! Tarrell cried. The City Guard was leading him down another dark corridor when he heard the screams and knew it was Rion. He broke into a run, but the Guardsmen to either side tackled him. Let me go! You’re hurting him! One of the Guards cracked him hard across the face and the world vanished.

RARNAK silently cursed as Tarrell fell limply to the stone floor of the corridor. Rarnak had forced himself not to resist, knowing it was hopeless. There was nothing they could do to help Rion, not like this.

The Guards were looking at each other uneasily as the screams continued echoing down the hall. The Captain said, It’s just him trying to trick us into opening his cell. We’ll look in as we go past. Now move!

One of the Guards grabbed Tarrell under the arms and dragged him along the corridor as they proceeded warily, some muttering prayers to Elmoth.

The Captain peered into the barred window of a door on the left ahead of Rarnak. The man exhaled in relief and then glared at his men. I told you! There’s nothing there, and he’s still chained. He can scream all he wants, but he won’t be able to summon his monsters bound by cold iron as he is. We’ll toss these two in with him. Maybe they can get him to shut up.

They opened the door and dumped Tarrell onto the floor, then pushed Rarnak in after him. Rarnak barely managed not to trip over Tarrell as the door was slammed shut behind him. He left Tarrell lying on the floor and ran to Rion. Rion, it’s all right! It’s me, Rarnak. Can you hear me?

Rion was kicking and flailing about wildly and screaming, his voice hoarse, as if he’d been screaming for a long time. He didn’t react to Rarnak’s presence or his words at all, as if he didn’t even know Rarnak was there. Then, without warning, he collapsed, hanging limply from the chains.

Rion? Rion! For the love of Elmoth, please answer us! What’s happening? a terrified voice called, echoing from the darkness into the sudden silence.

Rarnak looked around, baffled, recognizing the distinctive but mild Thenalonese accent of one of the Ogaten brothers. Gar? Is that really you? Where are you?

Who are you? Gar’s voice called back, uncertainly.

It’s Rarnak. Where are you?

Rarnak! We’re in a cell, about twenty feet past the one Rion’s in. He’s been screaming and screaming. You must have heard him. We’ve been going mad not being able to help him, and now he’s stopped.

Rarnak went to the cell door to hear Gar better. I’m in here with Rion and Tarrell. They’re both unconscious. They brought me and Tarrell here and hit Tarrell, knocking him out. I don’t know why Rion was screaming. There’s no one else in here. But he’s passed out, now.

We thought something had come for him again, Gar called out. He was attacked in the Market by a chimaera and a werewolven, two beasts we heard of in Thenalon. They were hunting him specifically for some reason. We managed to kill them, but Jathran and Lerdon are dead, and lots of others who were there. They’re blaming Rion for all of it. They arrested him for wizardry and murder and other things, and us too. They think he’s an evil wizard and that we’re in league with him, because we saved him. How does he look to you?

Rarnak went back to Rion. He looked terrible. His hair and shirt were wet and he was shivering violently. His skin felt very cold. His wrists were torn and bloody from the manacles, and there were teeth marks and congealed blood on his right arm. Something had bitten him. But although the wound hadn’t been treated, it wasn’t deep and it wasn’t bleeding any longer. Rarnak went to the cot and lifted the blanket, then dropped it quickly in disgust, brushing off the things that crawled on his hand. He took off his own shirt instead and wrapped it around Rion, and began chafing his hands up and down Rion’s arms, hoping to warm him.

He’s in a bad way. I’ve done what little I can for him, Rarnak said, shivering from the chill of the cell as he checked on Tarrell. Rarnak tried to rouse him, but Tarrell didn’t waken. Tarrell’s still out. They hit him pretty hard. He walked back to the door. You said ‘we’ before. Are Ron or Ara or Van with you?

Ron and I are here too, Ara called out. Van’s in Ogaten, thankfully. We’re all right, though Ron got himself chained. We were hoping Tarrell might be able to get us all out. Why’d they arrest the two of you?

Talia came by the shop to see if Tarrell and I were safe. A friend of hers had been in the Market and told her about the attack. We went there to find Rion. We saw Jathran’s and Lerdon’s bodies, and then a Captain of the Guard came over and described Rion to us. When Tarrell said that’s who else we were looking for and told him that he was Rion’s guardian, the Captain said Rion had been arrested and since he wasn’t an adult, the killings were Tarrell’s fault, too. Tarrell didn’t tell them Rion’s a man now. He’d hoped to see him. They blamed me just for working for him, apparently. I’m only glad they didn’t get Talia, too. One of the other Guard was decent enough. He hadn’t wanted her to see the bodies, so she wasn’t with us when we looked.

Rarnak imagined Talia captive, being forced into one of the cells, screaming and crying as the Guard took turns on her. He forced the images from his head. She was safe and she was smart. She’d know not to come here asking after them. He made a silent prayer to Areth, thanking her for keeping Talia safe again and entreating the Goddess to keep watching over his sister.

Tarrell stirred, and Rarnak went to him, glad for something to distract him. Tarrell moaned, and his hand went to his head as his eyes opened. Easy, Tarrell. They hit you pretty hard.

Tarrell stared up at Rarnak’s concerned face. Where’s your shirt? he asked, sounding befuddled.

Rion needed it worse than I did, Rarnak said grimly.

Rion! Tarrell cried, sitting up suddenly, and then falling back, clutching his head, gasping in pain.

Easy, Tarrell! He’s not going anywhere. Take it slow, Rarnak advised. He told Tarrell about the brothers being arrested as well.

Gar called out. Rarnak, there’s two things you’d better know about Rion, before he wakes up again. He can’t speak, at least he almost can’t. He’s able to choke out a word here and there when he tries really hard. And he was bitten. That werewolven bit his arm. I know it doesn’t look bad, but it might be. We’re not sure if it’s true or not, but from the stories we heard in Thenalon… he might change into one of them. And they’re vicious, and cunning, and preternaturally strong. He’d be dangerous. The manacles might not even hold him.

Tarrell sat up. He saw Rion dangling from chains on the wall. He tried to stand, but was a bit unsteady on his feet, so Rarnak helped him over to Rion. Rion? Rion, can you hear me? Tarrell’s hand was shaking as he brushed the hair from Rion’s eyes and ran his fingers through Rion’s hair. Tarrell lifted him to his feet and hugged him, then began chafing his arms, obviously hoping to warm him. Rion was shivering violently. We have to get him out of here! Tarrell said desperately.

Rarnak said, I can’t see as how any of us will be getting out. They’ll come for us soon enough, but I doubt it will be to let us go.

Rion moaned and stirred and then started struggling before he was fully conscious.

Rion, hush. It’s me. It’s Tarrell. It’s all right. I’m here now, Tarrell soothed as he held him.

Rion opened his eyes and at first stared wild-eyed, as if he didn’t recognize or even see Tarrell, but then his eyes focused on Tarrell’s face and tears began to fall. T-T-T…. Rion stuttered, and then he stamped his foot backward against the wall in frustration and began sobbing.

Hush, Rion. It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything. Don’t worry about that now, Tarrell soothed.

Rarnak went to the door and called out. Rion’s awake again, but he’s not doing too well.

Gar called out in concern. Is he acting odd? Does his arm look different?

Rarnak really didn’t know what to look for. He’d never heard either of the names Gar had given the monsters, and they hadn’t seen what lay under that separate blanket, or the tarp. Nothing I can tell, Rarnak called back.

Rion took great shuddering breaths, apparently trying to calm himself. Then he twisted in Tarrell’s embrace, trying to see his arm. Tarrell let go, and Rion examined the wound. Wh-wh…. He stamped his foot again. What? he yelled explosively and then stood breathing heavily, as if he’d fought a great battle.

Rarnak came over to him. He wished Gar hadn’t said anything while Rion was awake to hear. Nothing, Rion, he lied. Gar’s just worried your arm might fester, since it hasn’t been treated, but it’s not a bad wound. You’ll be fine.

Rion stared at him intently, and Rarnak grimaced as he realized Rion didn’t believe him. T-T-T-Tell… m-m-m…. He stamped his foot again and struggled further to speak, but he couldn’t say more.

Rarnak said, Please, Rion. I’m not even sure what he’s talking about. I’ve never heard of either of the names they gave those creatures. Please trust that we’ll try to keep you safe, all right?

Rion’s expression remained fearful, but he nodded.

TARRELL looked at Rion in agony. Rion not being able to speak was terrible. If only they could get him out of here! Once he was home, and warm and safe again, maybe then he’d find his voice.

Footfalls sounded in the corridor, and Tarrell put his arms protectively about Rion. A face peered through the barred window of the cell door. Stay there, by the wall. We’re coming in.

A Guard Captain came in, a different one than before, with eight men, all with drawn swords.

Tarrell stiffened, afraid they’d come to kill them.

You two, stand back by that far wall. We’re taking this one for questioning, the Captain said, pointing to Rion.

Tarrell let go of Rion and fell to his knees. Please, I beg you! Take me with you. I’m his guardian. He can’t even speak after what’s happened.

The Captain stared at Tarrell, begging on his knees, and then at Rion, chained to the wall, trembling, his face tear-streaked, and muttered disgustedly, ‘Dangerous wizard,’ he says. Tarrell continued to gaze at him beseechingly, and the Captain said, All right, but watch what you do, if you don’t want the boy to suffer for it.

Thank you, Captain! Tarrell said in relief. He stood aside while they unchained Rion and tossed Rarnak his shirt. They fastened shackles they’d brought with them to Rion’s wrists and ankles and led him shuffling from the cell, with Tarrell following. They relocked the door, leaving Rarnak in the cell.

The Guard took Tarrell and Rion up a long flight of stairs. They didn’t object when Tarrell helped Rion negotiate them, after he’d tripped on the heavy chains a few times.

They were led to a brightly lit room, with a sturdy wood table and four chairs. Tarrell sagged in relief. He had thought they were going to torture Rion.

The Guard Captain told them both to sit, and they did so. The cuffs of Rion’s shackles made rattling noises as his hands shivered on the table. The Captain turned to one of the Guard. Geffen, get the boy some kakla. Make sure it’s hot. And bring a blanket, one of ours, not one of the ones from the cells.

Apparently noting Tarrell’s surprised expression, the Captain said, You’re lucky you had someone speak on your behalf, or you’d not be in this room.

Tarrell was eager to know who might have spoken for them, but kept silent, lest he antagonize the Guard.

I need to hear everything that happened in the Market this morning, the Captain said to Rion, his voice surprisingly kind.

Rion appeared panicked. Wr-wr-wr…. He looked at Tarrell desperately, and licked his lips, then held his right hand as if holding a pen and pulled it across the table as if writing, while nodding his head.

Tarrell said, Captain, excuse me for speaking. He’s trying to tell you he can write it for you, he’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know, if you’ll give him pen and ink and paper. He writes fast and well, but he honestly can’t speak.

The Captain studied Rion appraisingly. Not even if it means I lock your guardian back in the cell, and take you downstairs to the room we usually question prisoners in?

Rion paled and started shaking more violently. P-p-p…. D-d-d…, he begged, unable to say even a single word, as tears started to stream down his face again.

Captain, please don’t hurt him! Tarrell begged. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this, I swear!

The Captain raised his hands. Calm yourselves, both of you. I needed to be sure you weren’t trying to deceive me. I’ve no wish to harm the boy, but I’ve a job to do. It’s the Guard’s responsibility to keep the City safe, and I’ll do everything in my power to see to it.

Geffen returned, but he wasn’t alone, and he’d done more than the Captain had asked. Instead of carrying a single mug and the blanket, he was bearing a tray, which he set down. There were three empty mugs, a large steaming pitcher of kakla, two smaller ones of sweet cream and honey, a plate of six slices of honey cake, three cloth napkins, and three spoons. There was another Guard behind him, holding a folded, thick wool blanket. Tarrell recognized him in surprise as the Guard they’d first spoken to in the Market: Regus, the compassionate one.

It was Regus who spoke. I figured you could use a mug too, Captain, so I offered to carry the blanket for Geffen so he could bring extra. And I knew it was likely the prisoners weren’t the only ones who’d not had any lunch. I thought you might be a bit peckish and that a few slices of my sister’s honey cake would tide you over, he said, appearing embarrassed, his eyes darting to Rion’s shivering form and back to the Captain’s face again.

Well, then, as you seem so eager to help, after you give the boy’s guardian the blanket for him, we’ll be needing pen and ink and paper as well. The boy can’t speak, the Captain said.

Yes sir! Regus said, handing Tarrell the blanket and leaving the room quickly.

Tarrell put the blanket about Rion’s shoulders, as he was hampered by the thick, heavy length of chain that bound his wrists.

The Captain said to Tarrell, You may pour the boy some kakla, and yourself some as well. Also, Regus must have forgotten I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I wouldn’t want to insult his sister, though, or for good food to go to waste. Help yourselves to the honey cake, he offered, as he poured a mug of kakla for himself and, true to his words, didn’t add either sweet cream or honey, drinking the bitter black brew appreciatively instead.

After Tarrell poured and sweetened a cup for each of them, Rion held the mug of kakla in both hands, the chain dangling between them, and drank carefully. His trembling eased a little. Th-th-th…. Rion said, looking frustrated and on the verge of tears again.

You’re welcome, the Captain said kindly. Take another drink or two to warm yourself, and eat at least one of the pieces of cake, so Regus will think I had some, the Captain ordered.

Rion nodded, picked up a piece of the cake, and obediently and gratefully began eating it.

Thank you, Captain, Tarrell said sincerely. His father and uncle were City Guards in Ardock, before they fell. Elmoth bless you and your men for being the kind of Guard they were. His thanks were heartfelt, but also, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to establish that bond between them. The City Guard, at its finest, was a brotherhood of sorts, at times respected even in a city not their own.

The Captain nodded slightly in acknowledgement, and then sipped again from his mug of kakla.

When Regus returned with the writing supplies, Tarrell noticed he glanced surreptitiously down at the table in front of Rion, and suspected it was to ensure he’d been given some of the cake.

Now then, I need you to write down all that happened: what you saw, what you did, what you know, the Captain commanded Rion.

RION nodded and complied. It was hard to write with his hands chained without smudging the ink, but he was careful.

The Captain read his statement aloud, after he was done. It was very thorough, including descriptions of the two beasts, and it detailed everything he’d seen. Rion saw that Tarrell listened intently and was horrified to hear what they had faced.

Then the Captain began asking questions, the first being why Ron, Ara, and Gar would have risked their lives to save him if they no longer worked for him.

Because they love me, as I love them, and we would die to save each other, Rion wrote sincerely.

The Captain appeared surprised and impressed by such loyalty. Then he asked Rion if he was a wizard, or knew any magic.

Rion wrote honestly, I am not a wizard nor do I know any magic. If I did, I would have used it to protect myself from the monsters and to keep the Guard from arresting me.

The Captain eyed him shrewdly. Do you know why a wizard might want to harm you?

Rion had been expecting that question, he had been bracing himself for it, and was careful to appear puzzled, and write with a steady hand. No, I don’t know why a wizard would take interest in me. I’m hoping he might have mistaken me for someone else and realized his mistake. If I’d known a wizard hunted me, I’d not be walking around openly with only two guards. I’d be in hiding, with armed men all around me.

The Captain studied him intently, and Rion met his gaze levelly. He’d been able to lie to Hunter without him suspecting, when he feared Hunter was marching against Talon. He could do so now, to a stranger.

The Captain appeared satisfied and asked a few more questions. Then he stood. All right. We’re going to take you back to your cell. We need to question your friends, next. You can keep the blanket, and you’ll stay in the shackles you’re in. You need not be chained to the wall again.

Rion nodded his thanks.

RARNAK was relieved to see the two of them come back as quickly as they did and appearing unhurt. He’d been imagining what they might do to poor Rion. He’d hoped Tarrell might have been able to convince the Guard that Rion couldn’t talk. But still, Rarnak was sure they would have tortured him. How else would they know he spoke the truth? Of course, a man in pain will say anything to make the pain stop, even damn himself to death, but such truths mattered little in a place like this. He’d been afraid Rion and Tarrell might have confessed to all kinds of crimes, in an effort to protect one another.

Rion actually looked a little better than he had when he’d left. He had a thick wool blanket about him, and he’d stopped shivering. And they didn’t chain him back to the wall as he had expected them to. Rion sat down on the wooden cot frame, as far from the other blanket as he could get.

Then Rarnak heard the brothers being taken for questioning.

Tarrell eyed the cell door with a concerned expression. I hope that our mysterious benefactor put in a word for them, too. I hope they are as civil to them as they were to us. He turned to Rarnak before he could voice the question. The Captain said someone spoke on our behalf. I wish I knew who.

A while later they heard footfalls and the sound of a cell door being opened and then closed again. After the Guard left the corridor, Tarrell called out to make sure the brothers were together and all right.

Ara called back, We’re fine. They were remarkably restrained, and Ron had the sense to hold his tongue this time. Rion seems to have impressed the Captain by what he told him of us, whatever it was.

Tarrell told them that someone had spoken on their behalf, but none of them could figure out who it might have been, or why they’d have taken the risk of being branded an accomplice of a wizard in order to help them.

A LONG while later, there were footsteps once more. Rion glanced nervously at Tarrell as Tarrell and Rarnak moved to stand beside him. Rion knew it was both to protect and reassure him. He was somewhat relieved to see it was the same Captain, the kind one, with the same eight Guard as before. All of them had been the type of Guard his father and uncle and their friends had been: decent people.

You’ve an audience with the Magistrate, the Captain said. The three of you are to come with us. To Rion’s surprise, he unlocked the fetters from Rion’s hands and feet. He hoped that their removing the shackles was a good sign. Did it mean they believed he wasn’t a wizard, that they realized they had no need of cold iron to protect themselves from him? Rion rubbed his wrists, careful of the torn skin.

They left with the Guard, down the hall to the left, and stopped at another cell. The Captain opened it, and Rion saw the brothers peering tensely out. Ron was no longer chained to the wall. The Captain said, The three of you have an audience with the Magistrate. Come. When they came out, Rion studied them anxiously, but they truly appeared unharmed, except for a ring of dried blood around each of Ron’s wrists that matched his own.

RON examined Rion critically. He looked terrible, but he still seemed himself. But he was quiet. Rion was seldom quiet, and he was far from smiling.

They walked together, surrounded by the Guard. They were escorted upstairs to the Judgment Hall. There was an imposing man there, older, with graying hair and a stern but honest-looking face, and more Guard.

The Guard led them in front of the man and then stepped to the side, joining the others. You will step forward when I call your name, for verdict and sentencing. Rion, ward of Trader Tarrell of Ardock?

Rion stepped forward. Ron could see he was nervous. He offered up a silent prayer to Elmoth on his behalf. Ara, who was by far the most devout amongst them, had softly spoken a number of them in their cell.

You have been charged with foul wizardry and the resultant murder of seventeen citizens, including four Guard, the injury of twenty-nine other individuals, and the destruction and damage of an as yet unassessed amount of goods.

RION tensed for the verdict, holding his breath.

You have been found not guilty of these charges. However, it is clear that, for an as yet unfathomed reason, you are a target of such foul wizardry and as such are a danger to the City. For the safety of the citizenry, you are hereby banished from Gosa. You will have twenty-four hours to leave the City. You will be escorted to your home by the Guard, and from there to the City gate. Should you ever choose to return, you will be subject to immediate arrest and potential execution, as deemed necessary at that time.

Rion sagged, both in relief and dismay. They had lived through so much to come and then spend only a few scant weeks here. He didn’t think he would ever have felt safe here again, after being attacked twice now in such a brief time. But where were they to go now?

Trader Tarrell of Ardock, guardian of Rion of Ardock? Tarrell stepped forward, and all