“How do I know you didn’t just have a romp with some boy?” Utheda asked quietly, poison dripping from every word.

  Nehma gasped incredulously. She slapped Utheda hard in the face. Ardmar winced as the sound of her hand meeting flesh resounded across the cold plains.

  Utheda did not say anything for a minute, her face frozen in shock. Suddenly, she grew downcast with shame. “I… I am sorry Nehma. I forgot my place. I do not think that of you.”

  Nehma did not say anything in return for a moment, her face locked in anger. Her hand throbbed where she had hit her aunt, breaking her rage with regret. She hugged Utheda, who slowly returned her embrace. Hot tears burned her cheek. “Oh, Aunt. This is hard for me too. I need your help.”

  Utheda pushed her away, looking her in the eyes. “You always have my help, Nehma. I will see you to safety, even if I have my doubts. I am just upset about what has happened.”

  “I am too… I…” she started to cry. “I killed Lae when I escaped from Vungarde.” Utheda grew surprised as Nehma began to sob from the overwhelming memory. “And not just her… my entire class. I… It was an accident, I didn’t know…” She stopped to weep, words no longer coming through the tears.

  Utheda pulled her into her arms, holding her closely. “It is alright, child. You did not know what you were doing. I do not blame you,” she whispered into Nehma’s ears.

  Suddenly, lean, cold arms were wrapped around them both. Ardmar had embraced them both, looking at Utheda. Utheda said nothing out of shock, but only nodded tersely, allowing him to bring them more fully into his arms. They stayed there for a few minutes, Nehma’s sobs slowing down as the time went by.

  Ardmar stepped away from the hug, pulling Nehma away from Utheda’s arms. She did not want to let go, but Ardmar did not relent. Utheda released Nehma reluctantly. The girl turned to face Ardmar, who got down on his knee and grasped Nehma’s arms. “I need you to be strong. The world needs you to be strong. You are everything to us. You need to fully throw yourself into this. Let go of regret, let go of your past. You are this now. You are the Mother of Dawn, do you know this?”

  “I… am not sure…” Nehma said through small sobs. “I trust you, but I do not know for myself. I don’t feel different than before.”

  Ardmar sighed. “I suppose that is enough for now. Look. The Bone Reef is ahead of us.”

  Nehma turned from his grasp to see a thin line on the horizon, falling very close to the feet of the mountains. She could not see it in great detail, but could see that it was white in color. “The Bone Reef?”

  “Yes,” Ardmar said. “It marks the border between Avan and Sundir.”

  “If we were to go east,” Utheda added, “we would find the wall Sundir erected to guard their lands.”

  “They always did value secrecy. They are paranoid men who distrust outsiders,” Ardmar spat. “And now they may hide things worse than that, if the Dawnhand is truly after Nehma.”

  “Weren’t the Dawnhand founded in Sundir?” Nehma asked, her voice still hoarse from crying.

  “Yes, and they were a great weapon when Sundir fought against Avan and Kath. But that was several hundred years ago. The Lightsingers supposedly assimilated the Dawnhand into their organization in order to control them, but lately they seem to have distanced themselves from the Dawnhand,” Ardmar said, his face twisted into disdain. He stood up. “Come, you two. We will go through the Reef into Sundir.”

  “Through the reef?” Utheda asked.

  “Yes. You have seen me make great waves of stone, yet you doubt I can move coral?”

  “No,” Utheda replied curtly.

  “Then be happy, for we have a way into Sundir without alerting the Dawnhand.” He whistled to himself and turned to walk towards the Bone Reef. Nehma turned to Utheda, offering her hand.

  “Are you coming with us?”

  Utheda smiled and took her hand. “I am coming with you, Nehma.”

  It was another cycle before they made it to the Bone Reef. It stood about fifty feet tall and looked like a pile of white, lumpy bone, with many holes in it. It looked like it had once been colorful and full of life, but now was long dead. Nehma pulled at one of the limbs protruding from the whole body, but it was sturdy and did not break away.

  Ardmar sat down in front of the Reef, chanting a small, quiet song, full of many notes and melodies. Nehma sat down to listen to him sing, enchanted by his beautiful music. His eyes were closed; Nehma closed hers as well, losing herself in the music. Time flowed by like a slow moving river, gently carrying all her thoughts and worries with it. She could feel herself balancing on the edge of a knife over a great chasm, but she was at peace. The Light filled her, echoing the music Ardmar produced. She sang along, and another voice joined the song, the energy flowing through their voices. There was a grinding sound, and Nehma opened her eyes, surprised that the song had stopped.

  Ardmar was grinning at her and Utheda, who had stopped to sit next to him. There was a hole big enough for them to walk through the coral unhindered. “My,” Ardmar said. “You joined my song.”

  “What does that mean?” Nehma asked.

  “It means that you can call on my powers.”

  “I can?”

  “Yes. Not only can you use Esh’ya’s Light, you can replicate my song. You can even lend it to Utheda. That I did not expect.” He smiled at them.

  Utheda, who had been listening intently, spoke up. “Does this… does this also prove who she is?”

  “No, not really. It helps, but it is not what will prove her. But regardless, we have a path. Are you two ready? There really is no going back after this.”

  Nehma nodded, but Utheda took a moment to agree. She nodded hesitantly, almost regretfully, but she nodded. Ardmar stood up and walked into the coral. The pair followed him in.

  As they entered the coral, Ardmar sang a small note, and the gap behind them closed with new coral that looked healthier than the coral all around. It was a small thing, but it was the Songchild’s gift to the Bone Reef. He turned to walk down the tunnel they had made.

  There were holes all around them, some that even went all the way to the top so that they could see the outside. There was no light this far to the west. The sky was a faint blue, but Nehma could hardly see that from inside the coral. A small light had sprouted from Ardmar’s hand; a flicker of fire from his finger, guiding them through the tunnel.

  Utheda was obviously uncomfortable. She had never enjoyed tight spaces and even had trouble with being in the Hall of the Gifted in Vungarde, where they walked underneath the full weight of the mountains. Nehma felt bad for her aunt. Her face gleamed with sweat from the light of the flame in Ardmar’s hand.

  “How far, Ardmar?” she asked through short breaths.

  “It is at least a two cycle journey through the reef.”

  Utheda wilted, and Nehma grabbed her hand to comfort. She could feel the sweat on her aunt’s palms. “We will be out of it soon enough, Utheda.”

  They walked for several hours. Utheda was quiet as she managed to control her breathing, but her palms were still very sweaty. Nehma almost lost her grip several times, and was unsettled by the amount of moisture on her aunt’s hands, but kept holding on.

  They stopped to rest in a small alcove Ardmar sung out of the coral. He closed the door behind him, much to Utheda’s displeasure. She looked like she was in pain. They did not sleep long. Nehma laid her head down, closing her eyes, and the next moment, Ardmar was rousing her to leave again.

  They moved through the coral as quickly as they could. It was not quick enough for Utheda, who constantly asked how far they were from the end. Ardmar stopped responding to her after she asked the fifth time. Nehma was beginning to feel like the walls were closing in on her, too, and even Ardmar was visibly stressed. He said nothing to them, though, quietly guiding them down the corridor.

  Ardmar stopped suddenly as a wall sprang up in front of them. It had been many hours since they had left the alcove, but Nehma did not know how long it had been without a Timestone. Utheda groaned with relief as Ardmar sang another note. The coral receded away, revealing open air in front of them. Utheda pushed past Nehma and Ardmar and fell to the ground outside. She lay still while the pair exited the coral. Nehma breathed in cold air as she looked up, astonished to see that they were on the opposite side of the Mountains of Winter. The Reef had spilled between the passes and low places between the mountains, and they had crossed over. The Great Chasm, as wide as the city of Vungarde and stretching as far as she could see in either direction, lay before them.

  After resting for a time, they continued on, walking north alongside the Chasm, which ran north to south, from one end of Oarthna to the other. Utheda had been too happy at first to really grasp that they were on the opposite side of the Mountains, but after a time she seemed to be thinking deeply. “Ardmar, where are we going now?”

  “We’re going to Gal, around Sundir,” the Songchild replied.

  “I thought you wanted to go into Sundir to see if there was something wrong.”

  Ardmar kept his gaze hard as he walked forward, picking up his speed a bit. “I have a suspicion, but this is the only way to confirm it.”

  “Are we safe?”

  Ardmar looked at her, surprised that Utheda would ask such a question. He smiled. “Are we ever safe?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t seen danger in the last week and a half since we left Avan. No Dawnhand, no shards of Sar, no threat of any kind!”

  “There will come a day when you will wish for this time again, Utheda. Do not spurn it now.” He picked up the pace even more, almost to a slow jog. They walked quickly, hugging the foot of the mountain. The Chasm was at least a mile away from them, but it was large enough for them to see from where they were, especially at the elevated angle of the mountain. Nehma could not keep her eyes from the great divider that separated Oarthna from the Evenside.

  The eternal night was not much to look at. It was white chewed up by the darkness. The skies were completely black, underneath a permanent cloud cover that only served to freeze the Evenside that much more. It was flat, but Nehma knew that many miles to the west was a great range of mountains, underneath which sat Thynopos, the house of the Lightsingers.

  They rested again, but sleep was hard to find, even in the comfortable huts that Ardmar sang from the ground. The cold seemed to pierce through the walls and into Nehma’s flesh, keeping her from truly resting. Her dreams were of ice, but she could sense something watching her from beyond the darkness, from beyond the Evenside. It was almost nothing, barely a sliver of discontent in her mind, but it was there nonetheless.

  Ardmar led them on at an even quicker pace the next cycle, not saying two words except to rouse Nehma and Utheda from sleep. At one point, however, he struck up a lecture with Nehma.

  “Who are the Children of Night?”

  “Songchild,” Nehma responded, “you surely know more than I.”

  “I want you to tell me.”

  “They are the Noble, the Thief, the Soldier and the Lady. No one knows their true names, but the Noble was called Rygar and the Soldier was named Jutyr.”

  “The Lady, she was so beautiful. Sar picked her for that reason. I cannot tell you how many men fell to her red lips. Her true name was Lymara. The Thief was a clever man. There was not a man he could not bluff or a treasure he could not steal. I knew him as Rhuic.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you will one day have to face them. It is not only Sar you must worry about, but his children too. I do not know if any of my kin survive, but I know that because of Esh’ya’s absence, we cannot be called again to help you, but Sar has been able to resurrect his children.”

  Nehma grew pale. “I have many enemies.”

  Ardmar looked at her with sadness. “You have done nothing to earn them. It is not you they hate, so remember that. They hate Esh’ya. They want to kill him; they want him gone and dead. They want to kill your child.”

  Nehma gasped, placing her arms over her stomach protectively. “They will not!”

  “That’s the spirit. Hold on. Do you see that?” Ardmar pointed ahead. Nehma could not make out what he was pointing at for a second, but Utheda’s eyes narrowed as she saw what it was.

  “That… that cannot be. There is only one bridge across the Chasm.”

  Ardmar was cursing. “I knew it. This is what they’re hiding!”

  Nehma was beginning to make out a line that crossed the Chasm, bridging Oarthna with the Evenside. “A bridge? I thought the only one was in Avan, under charge of the Lightsingers.”

  “It appears Sundir and the Dawnhand have been keeping a big secret from the Lightsingers,” Ardmar spat. Utheda scowled with him. The Songchild turned to walk towards the Chasm.

  “Where are you going?” Nehma called after him.

  He turned back to look at Utheda and Nehma, left standing in the snow underneath the Mountains of Winter. “There’s been a change of plans.” He began to walk towards the bridge.

  Chapter 22: A Change of Plans

  The Chasm howled with cold wind as Ardmar marched along the eastern lip. Nehma could hear angry humming from the Songchild and the cold air responded to his furious song. The wind began to heat up, swirling and screaming into the canyon.

  “The Lightsingers should have had a better grip on the Dawnhand. They’ve become an agent for Sundir, like they used to be before their assimilation,” Ardmar growled.

  “Why would Sundir want to build a bridge across the Chasm?” Utheda asked. “They have free use of the one in Avan!” It was an effort to speak over the hot air whirling around them.

  “They serve Sar, I’m sure of it. If the Lightsingers knew of their treachery, the Dawnhand would be no more, and Jordeen and the rest of Sundir would be razed to the ground.”

  “Sar? It is one thing to accuse them of seeking their own interests, but another to accuse them of serving Sar,” Nehma interjected.

  “Why would the Dawnhand try to kill you, if not because they were serving the Accursed One’s will?”

  Nehma said nothing, only following along. The Chasm fluctuated in width as they came closer to the bridge, but always seemed impossibly large. It was a gaping mouth into the depths of the earth and Nehma feared falling into it, falling into an eternal darkness, always falling and never reaching the end. But then again, that would be better than landing in pitch black, dashed onto rocks and soil in the deeps of that dark cavern.

  The bridge was lined with many torches so that it was easily distinguished from the Chasm. It was a thin, fiery line, drawn across the great hole as if from the edge of a pen. Even from several miles away, Nehma could tell it was wider than the streets of Vungarde. It was meant for moving soldiers and supplies, reinforced and equipped with bird’s nests for archers and Gifted Dawnhand. “What are you planning to do about this, Songchild?” Nehma asked fearfully.

  “I am going to tear it apart, brick by brick. I want them to see me do it too. I want it to be a long time before they have such hubris again.” Ardmar scowled as he said this.

  There was movement up ahead, several shambling men, walking around with no clear path in mind. They looked naked, or barely clothed, but they blended in with the dull white and grey of the mountains too well for her to make out details. Ardmar stopped in his tracks, squinting at the shapes ahead of them.

  He sang a small note, and a staff made from stone sprung from the ground. It was taller than he was, thin but firm. He grasped it in one hand and spun it the other, rushing forward silently. Nehma tried to follow him, but Utheda grabbed her hand, holding her finger up to her mouth to keep her from saying anything. Nehma nodded and watched Ardmar worriedly.

  She could barely make out his shape as he danced amongst the figures, punishing them with his staff. They crumpled one by one, making no real, concerted effort to defend themselves, only running wildly at Ardmar. One of them turned and seemed to spot Nehma and Utheda just as Ardmar finished the others. He began to sprint at them.

  As he drew closer, Ardmar only a few steps behind him, Nehma could see that his skin was desecrated, grey and cracked with age. His eyes, wide and sunken, were completely white and his face seemed to be stretched across his skull like old cloth. His mouth hung open, his tongue drooping out of it, flopping as he ran at them. Revulsion ran through Nehma’s spine, and she reached for the Unity, but it would not come. She tried opening herself up, but she felt blocked off by fear.

  The creature came within ten feet of them and Nehma could hear it screaming at the top of its lungs. It lunged- and crumpled to the ground as Ardmar finally landed a blow on its head, which burst in a shower of old, rancid blood.

  Nehma and Utheda fell back to the ground, horror and shock written upon their faces. “What in Yaresh’s name was that?!” Utheda cried, looking at the twisted man lying in the snow.

  “That was a Bound Man. He was human once, but he was slain long ago,” Ardmar replied.

  “He came back to life?” Nehma asked, wiping the blood of her face.

  “It is more accurate to say he never truly died. Each of the gods has a certain power. Esh’ya has power over light, water and earth, the primary powers that sustain life. But Sar has the power of binding. This means he can bind mind, spirit and flesh. One of the Shards of Sar bound these souls to their body, so that when they died, they would not truly die. He turned their souls to his madness. They are not particularly intelligent, but if the whip is behind them, they can be an effective force.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ardmar looked back to the bridge. “It means that after all these years, one of the Shards of Sar has come out of hiding. I suspect it has to do with you. The dream shades do not chase unless given a target. I doubt that Sundir is using the Bound Men extensively, but I’m sure their numbers will be greater as we approach the bridge. This is fortunate for us though.”

  “How is this supposed to be fortunate?” Utheda screeched, still staring at the Bound Man lying on the ground, a pool of dark, grey blood flowing from his skull.