She was so young, so bright, and I hardly had a chance to know her. His vision grew blurry, and he rolled over to bury his face in a pillow. He could only hope it muffled the sounds of his misery.

  It had been his fault, too. He often talked about not accepting blame for the actions of others, and it was certainly Lognion’s evil that had resulted in the tragedy, but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t showed up. He’d been arrogant enough to think he could predict the king’s choices, and his mistake had cost a lot of people their lives.

  He’d killed a lot of those people himself—deliberately. Remembering his psychotic rage made him worry for his own sanity. Surely that wasn’t normal, even for someone who’d just lost family. He had wanted to kill people, not just Lognion, not just Lognion’s guards, but people. Any people.

  Will hadn’t always been that way. Years ago, he had been nauseous and vomited after killing a soldier just to survive. Yesterday, he had enjoyed doing it. The memory was very clear, and deep down, some part of him still reveled in it. The recent war had greatly accelerated the process, but he had hoped that the peace of the last few months might have helped.

  Clearly it had not.

  For a moment, he wished he had someone to blame. Someone he could punish for how twisted he had become. Someone he could kill.

  Will blinked and shook his head. I’m becoming a monster.

  His misery was interrupted by the sound of someone raising their voice. The sound was muffled; it probably came from a different room some distance down the hall. Unconsciously, Will increased the sensitivity of his hearing.

  “You heard me! I want him out of this house! He’s your husband, so I understand you won’t abandon him, but I won’t be bound by your foolishness. You never should have married him!”

  Will blinked. The voice belonged to Agnes Nerrow. Up until yesterday, she had treated him very warmly, but obviously things had changed. She blames me for their deaths, Will realized. Selene responded, “You’re the closest thing to a mother I have ever known. You’re better than this, Agnes. I understand your shock, but I have faith that you’ll rethink your words once you calm down.”

  “And I never thought a daughter of mine would hold a snake to my bosom, but I suppose I was wrong. All three of you knew, didn’t you? You made quite the fool out of me!”

  “It wasn’t a conspiracy. Laina figured it out on her own. Tabitha didn’t know at—” Selene’s voice cut off abruptly with the sound of a slap. Will’s eyes went wide. Surely not, he thought.

  Agnes’ voice was dripping venom. “So you used my one innocent child as bait in your murderous plot to usurp the throne?” She waited, and when Selene didn’t answer, Agnes continued, “Don’t look at me with those eyes. I don’t care if you’re about to be queen. Hang me if you want. You’ve already ruined me. This family was all I’ve ever had, all I cared about.”

  “You still have a family. We all love you, if you could just understand. He loves you as well,” said Selene.

  Will winced. Not a good answer, Selene. She just lost both her daughters and you’re offering us as a substitute? He was mildly confused. Normally his wife was better at understanding others. Agnes replied, “He who? My husband, who preferred his bastard son to his legitimate wife and children? Or do you mean the bastard child who snuck into my home and turned my family against me while using my daughters as pawns in his savage political game?”

  “I can’t talk to you like this,” said Selene. “Maybe later, after you’ve calmed down. I’m out of time, but I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Get your house in order and take him out of here. I won’t have him under my roof a minute longer than necessary.” Will didn’t hear anything for almost a minute, but then Agnes added, “Go! He’ll still be alive when you return. I wouldn’t sink that low, but don’t expect me to feed him. Wait.” Another pause. “Where is the meeting?”

  “The cathedral,” answered Selene.

  “You don’t have a retinue. Even that giant man you brought with you is still in bed. You can’t show up alone.”

  “I don’t have much of a choice,” said Selene.

  “Charles, go with her. Take the house guards,” ordered Agnes.

  “How many?” asked a male voice.

  “All of them.”

  “Thank you,” said Selene.

  “This isn’t forgiveness,” said Agnes. “You’ve spent my blood to steal this throne. I have nothing left, but you owe me a debt.”

  At that point, Will tried to rise, but the room began to spin. He managed to get his feet on the floor, but when the world started to go black, the best he could manage was to lean back so he would fall onto the bed rather than the floor. Darkness swallowed him.

  The touch of a hand on his forehead woke him sometime later. Looking up, he saw a woman sitting on the edge of the bed, and he blinked to clear his eyes. It appeared to be Tabitha. Am I dreaming? “Tabby-cat? Is that really you?”

  He had never used her nickname before, though he’d heard both Selene and Laina call her that on occasion. It was something he had wanted to do, but he hadn’t felt as though he had the right. Fundamentally, he was a stranger. Dreams had different rules, though. She nodded, then replied, “It’s me. I’m glad you’re alive. I never would have forgiven myself if you died on my account.”

  “I wish I had died instead of you,” Will muttered. “Laina too. I’m a monster, but for some reason the good people always die, and nothing happens to the bad ones.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Stop it. My brother is a good man—the very best. I won’t listen to you speaking ill of him. Besides, we all made it through. Laina is asleep in her room.”

  Will frowned and sat up. “This is a dream, right?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Tabitha, leaning forward to hug him tightly. “I was scared to death yesterday. I’ve been scared for weeks.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I wanted to protect you. You ruined everything yesterday, but I was so glad.”

  Will’s chest tightened, and he was grateful that the regeneration potion had done its work, for he felt no physical pain. His heart ached terribly, though. “It’s all my fault.”

  She nodded, and he felt her chin dig into his shoulder as she squeezed him tighter. “It’s all your fault, and now everything will be all right.” She released him and smiled. “Brother.”

  “You knew?”

  Tabitha nodded again. “Not at first. Everyone always assumes I’m oblivious, and I suppose I prefer it that way.”

  “When did you find out?” he asked.

  “After our house burned down, when we stayed with you and Selene.”

  “You should have told me you knew.”

  Tabitha grinned. “It was more fun teasing you.”

  He stared at the blankets. “It was better before. Your mother hates me now.”

  “Mother will come around. Laina is stubborn. She’ll knock some sense into mother eventually.”

  The brightness, the confidence in her voice, undid him. Will put his head in his hands and felt the tears begin to spill over. “No, she won’t. She’s gone. Your mother will truly despise me once she understands that.”

  “Will, that’s not true. Don’t even say that. She’s just asleep. I checked on her before I came in here. Other than a few bruises, she wasn’t hurt at all.”

  His eyes were swollen when he finally looked up at her and shook his head. “Lognion ordered her to kill me, but she fought the command, and the enchantment killed her. I was there, with her. I thought I was helping, but I only made it worse.”

  Tabitha could see and hear that he was broken inside, but still she shook her head in denial. “No. You’ve been asleep for most of the day and I’m sure you’ve had terrible dreams.”

  “Where’s Darla?”

  “She’s been keeping vigil beside her ever since she woke up.”

  “Ask her. She knows the truth. She saw it happen.”

  Tabitha was on her feet, and while she didn’t seem angry, she was obviously agitated. “You need more rest,” she advised. “Believe me. Everything is fine.” She left on that remark.

  Alone again, Will activated the limnthal and asked Arrogan a question. “How long can a body survive without a soul?”

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever done a solid study of the subject. It’s a fairly rare state of affairs. What I can tell you for certain, however, is that from watching over you I know for a fact that a body can survive without a brain for well over two decades.” The old man snorted at the end, unable to resist laughing at his own joke. Will didn’t respond, and after a long, awkward minute, Arrogan gave the question more consideration. “It’s probably similar to how long a person survives if they can’t wake up. You likely know more than I do about that. Food, water, bodily necessities—the limit probably lies in those things. Assuming they don’t just die immediately for whatever reason.”

  “Her body isn’t dead yet,” said Will bleakly.

  Arrogan was almost tentative when he asked, “Whose?”

  “Laina’s.”

  “Ouch. Are you sure she’s gone? What happened?”

  Once upon a time, such a question might have caused his pulse to quicken with hope, but Will knew very well what he had seen. He explained to the best of his ability before his voice got too thick to continue. “See what I mean?” he said as he finished.

  “I’m sorry, boy. I know what those girls meant to you. How is the other one? Tabitha, was that her name?”

  Will nodded, wishing for perhaps the hundredth time that the ring could see his gestures. Sometimes speech was too difficult. Taking a deep breath, he managed to get the words out. “She’s fine. I thought she died too but they got a potion in her before it was too late. She saved my life.” He realized then that he had forgotten to thank her. She put herself between me and three crossbows.

  “How is everyone else? Selene?”

  “She’s fine. Everyone’s fine, I think. Lognion’s dead, though.”

  Arrogan sounded genuinely surprised. “Really? How?” Will wasn’t in a fit state to relive everything, but he gave a brief account of the fight, including his new talent. His grandfather couldn’t keep from gloating. “A lightning bolt? The only sad part is it probably happened so fast he didn’t even have time to know he was dead. What about the elementals?”

  That forced Will to explain about the strange bodyguards. He did that, adding his own speculation as well. “They were in both planes, the material and the ethereal. I don’t think they were switching back and forth, they just naturally existed in both, the same way a river does, or a mountain. I think maybe that was why they were so tough. It was almost as though they were extra real. As if Tiny, Darla, myself, everything, just wasn’t real enough to affect them. It’s like we were dreams, or ghosts, and nothing we did mattered.”

  “They had scales?”

  “Yes. Do you know what they were?”

  The old man sounded strangely befuddled. “Yes? No? I think I might, if I were alive. It feels like something that should trigger a memory. It feels like I left myself a note, but I can’t read it, probably because I’m dead. The magic won’t work.”

  “I’m more confused now than before,” said Will.

  “You still haven’t read the book, have you?”

  Will rubbed his face with his hands, more tired than ever. Just one day—one day without more of this insanity, he pleaded internally. As usual, fate ignored him. “No. I haven’t. The lich said the same thing, by the way.”

  “Grim Talek? He’s in the book!” The ring sounded excited. “You spoke to him again? When? Why?”

  “Not directly. He sent Rob to give me a warning. He said that coming to Cerria was a trap.”

  “Hmph. It was.”

  “I knew that. He also asked if I had read the book and then spouted off some nonsense calling me Grim Talek’s disciple.”

  Arrogan growled. “He said that about Valemon too. Don’t listen to him.”

  Valemon was one of Arrogan’s previous apprentices, one that Arrogan had later killed, who was known to modern historians as the Prophet and the founder of the religion that had been a large part of the civil war between Terabinia and Darrow. Will frowned. “He also mentioned something about being of the ‘fourth-order,’ but Rob never went through any of the compressions, so I’m not sure what he meant.”

  “The fourth-order is death,” Arrogan clarified. “Any wizard who tried another compression beyond the third died. Some said that the fourth compression was how Grim Talek originally became a lich, though. That it killed him, but he simply refused to die.”

  “Was that what you did when you were shot and died?” asked Will. “You said you’d been dead for half the fight.”

  “Maybe,” admitted his grandfather. “I just wouldn’t let my body stop until it was over. Then again, my current condition is somewhat similar to being undead, except I don’t have access to magic, not unless I possess someone.”

  “What about the master vampire, Androv? Was he similar to a lich as well?”

  “Any undead spellcaster would be the same. Dead, without a source, but somehow still absorbing and using turyn like a wizard. Most vampires can’t use any magic at all, even if they were trained while alive. It takes a lot of time and training, a lot of will, for them to regain any magical ability. Some claim that over time it makes them stronger, but the evidence is sparse. Only very old, very experienced undead have the strength of will to challenge a living wizard when it comes to magic.”

  “Grim Talek’s will was greater than mine,” Will admitted. “When I met him near the end of the war, I couldn’t do anything.”

  “He’s well over a thousand years old. In fact, we don’t have any idea how old he actually is.”

  “But he’s in the hidden book at your old house?” asked Will.

  “I think so. I don’t remember.”

  “Why not?”

  “The book has been passed down for generations. It’s an heirloom of sorts. Some say it was written by the First Wizard, or that Grim Talek wrote it himself, or that they were the same person, but it’s all conjecture. No one remembers what’s in the book, just that they made the choice to forget.”

  “You’re getting cryptic again,” Will complained.

  “It’s a spell, a type of contract. Reading the book begins the act of casting it on yourself. At the end, you’re left with the choice of finishing the spell and forgetting the contents or cancelling it to remember.”

  “Why would anyone want to forget what they had just read?”

  “I can only tell you what my impression was when I made the choice,” said Arrogan. “I remember knowing that I’d never sleep again if I didn’t forget, that I would live in fear. There are a lot of secrets in that book, not just from the first writer, but from other wizards that came later. None of it is any good. It’s just recorded there in case it’s needed later, but I mostly remember a feeling of hopelessness. That none of it mattered.”

  “Why not burn it then, if it didn’t matter?”

  “The spell included triggers. Things that would restore some of the memories, if certain conditions were met, so the current lore-master would be prepared when and if the time came.”

  “If what time came?” Will asked.

  “Beats me,” said the ring with an almost audible shrug. “I just feel as though those lizard monsters might be one of the triggers. It’s pretty unusual to hear about bidimensional creatures like those.”

  “Bidimensional?”

  “You said they existed in both the material and ethereal dimension simultaneously. That’s very rare. I’ve only heard of things like that with demigods, like the Cath Bawlg, or demon-lords.”

  “They’re bidimensional too?”

  “The Cath Bawlg was multi-dimensional, that’s part of why he was so dangerous. Demon-lords are bidimensional to a degree as well, but with them it’s different. They carry a little piece of hell inside them, like a seed. At least that’s what I was taught. I’m not sure how accurate any of it is. Not many higher-dimensional beings sit down and let us study them and run tests.”

  A knock at the door ended the conversation. Will dismissed the limnthal and made sure the blankets were covering his lower body properly, then answered, “I’m awake. Enter.” A maid stepped in, carrying a neatly folded envelope.

  “This came for you, sir.”

  Will held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  The maid bowed. “Since you’re awake, would you like tea or something to eat?”

  He looked to the window. The sun was hanging above the houses to the west, indicating he had slept most of the day. It was too late for lunch and too early for supper. “No need to make anything special for me. Leftover bread and small beer will do fine.”

  “There’s fresh fruit, sir. It wouldn’t be any trouble.” She smiled faintly, barely hiding her nervousness.

  The maid was pretty in a delicate but awkward way that was probably appealing to many. Will’s eyes noted the line of her shoulder and neck. It was the sort of unconscious appreciation that came without thought, but in his mind’s eye he momentarily imagined the carnage a force-lance would wreak if it struck her. It was a vivid image. He could see her skin splitting, bones shattering, muscles and tendons torn apart, exposing the vital organs beneath—

  “Milord?” The question brought him back to the present with a shudder and the taste of bile in his mouth. His vision was barely a fiction. Less than a day ago he’d committed such violence dozens, perhaps hundreds of times over.

  Will looked away, focusing his eyes on the floor. The ornamental rug there was overlain with a memory of a man’s skull exploding. I did that, he thought, clenching his jaw. “Yes, please. Fruit sounds delightful.” His voice sounded far too calm in his own ears. It should be shaky. I should feel sick, or nervous—something!

  More scenes played through his head while the maid left. He was still replaying the bloody memories when she returned a short while later. He thanked her without giving any sign of his thoughts. The tray in front of him was laden with crisp slices of apple and pear. The crunch when he bit down on the first piece made him think of bones breaking. Will put the tray aside, his appetite gone.