He still couldn’t help but ask, “Larry?”

  The older man shrugged. “Lawrence was a little too uppity for him. He’s a gentle beast, but dumb as a stump.”

  He wanted to laugh, but after killing Blue, Will’s humor was missing. “There’s a path through the fae realm close to here. That will get us there much quicker.”

  “Which way?” asked Johnathan.

  Will pointed back in the direction of Branscombe. “I can’t bring the horse through.” His uncle looked disappointed, then went to remove Larry’s bridle. Realizing his uncle meant to turn the horse loose, Will stopped him. “I can only bring one person through. You’re already hurt. I think it would be better for you to let Larry carry you back.” It was a manufactured lie, but Will didn’t hesitate to use it.

  His uncle seemed even more agitated, but finally just said, “Well, hurry up then! Don’t stand around here like a fool!”

  Tiny and Will nodded and set off. “I’ll pay you back for the horse later!”

  “I’ll put my foot up your backside,” yelled his uncle. “Don’t talk money until we know if your mom is safe.”

  Chapter 17

  The congruence point was a couple of miles from where they had arrived. Using an elemental travel disk, Will and Tiny covered that distance in a matter of minutes, and the trip through the fae realm was almost as quick. Within twenty minutes of leaving his uncle, Will and Tiny were stepping through the congruence point near his mother’s home. He’d taken that route many times in the past, so he was very familiar with where it re-entered his home plane. On the fae side there was a cave, where the Cath Bawlg had once made its home.

  He tried not to think of the demigod as he passed through and exited beside the massive oak behind the garden that was behind Erisa’s house. Or rather, where the oak tree should have been. They crossed over into a place that looked nothing like the forest of Glenwood.

  They were standing on a black plain devoid of trees, his mother’s house, or anything else of note. Smoke rose in faint wisps here and there, and something akin to snow floated slowly down, coating the blackened landscape with a contrasting layer of grey-white. In the distance, smoke darkened the horizon, and Will slowly realized it was the forest burning. He stared at the ground, studying it. Was there a forest fire? Did it already pass here? No, that couldn’t be. If it had, there would be something left—burned and scarred tree trunks, smoldering embers—something.

  “Where are we?” asked Tiny.

  Will heard himself reply in a dead voice, “My home. Mom’s house, it should be right there.” Lifting one hand, he pointed at the emptiness in front of them.

  “Sweet Mother,” swore Tiny, stepping forward. The ground crunched oddly beneath his feet. Bending down, he picked up a wicked-looking shard of black glass. “What is this, glass?”

  As they stared at it, Will began to comprehend what his eyes were seeing. Everything had been incinerated by a flame so hot that it had completely removed all traces of anything remotely flammable. The ground itself had melted and flowed, creating a dark morass of hardened glass atop the scorched earth.

  Tiny spoke again. “If there was a fire, shouldn’t it still be hot? Right? This glass is warm, but it isn’t hot enough to burn me.” He scraped the soil with his toe. “The dirt beneath seems normal.” His eyes met Will’s. “She might not have been here.”

  “I saw her here,” said Will, “less than an hour ago.” The ground sloped gently downward in the direction of Barrowden, and he pointed. “If she started running immediately, maybe—it doesn’t look like the fire has gotten to the town yet.”

  “Maybe she—”

  “She didn’t,” said Will bitterly. “She had no cause. She was excited to see her son—” He stopped as his throat threatened to close up in mid-sentence.

  “How could he do this?” wondered Tiny. “You killed him yesterday. This is over a week’s travel from Cerria. What power could burn things like this?” Tiny paused, then pointed. “There’s someone coming toward us.”

  Will’s eyes snapped back into focus, and he raised his head to look in the direction Tiny was pointing, to the east. A man’s silhouette was there, more than two hundred yards distant, trudging slowly in their direction. Anger replaced shock, and Will took his first step in the direction of the stranger. Several steps later, and the first rumbles of thunder echoed across the valley.

  Tiny watched the sky nervously as he walked beside him. “Are you doing that?”

  “I hope so.”

  “The forest is already on fire. Maybe you should relax.” When Will didn’t answer, he added, “We don’t even know who it is yet.” As if to punctuate Tiny’s remark, the stranger in the distance waved at them.

  “The list of people who might have impersonated me is quite small, and I’m not friends with any of them,” said Will.

  “Who’s on that list?”

  “Grim Talek, my grandmother, and if this really is revenge, Lognion, although I didn’t think he was capable of this kind of magic,” said Will calmly. “Whoever it is, I’m not in a mood to negotiate.”

  “Can you beat anyone on that list?”

  “Probably not. Two are immortal, and I have no idea what Lognion is.”

  “Good thing I’m here then.”

  The absurdity of Tiny’s statement was so great that Will didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he was too angry to do either. They continued to walk, crunching across the glassy plain until they were within twenty yards of the newcomer. Will found himself face-to-face with his doppleganger, and by then the sky was dark with thunderclouds as well as smoke. His duplicate smiled, lifted a finger to the sky, and asked, “Is that you?”

  “Who are you?” Will demanded.

  The fake-Will put his hands on his hips, feigning annoyance. “You should know already. Iron doesn’t bother me, if that helps. Does your new talent include rain? If so, you might be able to stop the blaze before—"

  The lightning came down in a flickering cascade of light and sound that deafened and blinded Tiny, and it continued for much longer than any normal lightning strike should have. The first blast caused him to stumble and fall, and after that the knight focused purely on keeping his eyes closed and his hands over his ears. After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped.

  Unfazed, Will walked over to examine the body, which was now little more than blackened bones and steaming flesh. He stopped when the thing’s jaw moved and a voice addressed him, “Was that really necessary?”

  Will’s response was instant—a force-lance shot forth, aimed squarely at the talking skull, but it was stopped by a point-defense shield. The air around Will seemed to grow heavy, and he knew his magic was being suppressed. Even the sky above seemed to become more distant. The only magic left to him would be force spells, and his enemy was clearly able to match him there.

  Magical control was also dependent on distance, however. Will began backing away. If he could get far enough, he’d be able to control the lightning once more, and that obviously had some effect.

  “Can we talk about your mother before you try to destroy me again?” asked the smoldering corpse. “She’s not dead.”

  Will froze. “Where is she?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  He began backing up again. “Where?”

  “Destroying this body won’t kill me, but it might irritate me enough to teach you a lesson in manners. Doesn’t Erisa’s safety concern you?”

  He paused. “Yes, but I still don’t know who I’m dealing with.”

  “I already told you. I’m not one of the fae, obviously, and I wouldn’t have saved your mother if I was Lognion.”

  “Grim Talek? Why would you help me?”

  “This would have been a much more pleasant conversation if you hadn’t ruined this body so thoroughly. You’d also know the answer to some of these questions if you had taken my advice and read the book rather than set this unfortunate series of events in motion.”

  “What series of events?”

  “The end of the world. Look around you. Can you imagine how hot that flame was? It was so hot it reduced your mother’s house and everything else here to ash, and it happened so fast it almost didn’t catch the surrounding trees on fire. There’ll be a lot more of it once Lognion’s children start fighting with one another. I know of nothing more devastating than dragon fire.”

  Dragon fire? Will was having trouble believing his ears, and he spent a few futile seconds trying to remember everything his grandfather had ever taught him about dragons. He found little, but his inner voice remarked in Arrogan’s voice: Correction, you found a whole lot of diddly and squat. Finally, he questioned the broken lich. “Are you saying Lognion has somehow enslaved a dragon? How? Where would he find one?”

  “Young fool,” mocked the lich. “I’ve given you every hint needed, but your thinking is still flawed. No, the former king hasn’t enslaved a dragon—he is a dragon. He’s spent centuries enslaving humans, not the reverse. The body you knew as Lognion belonged to your wife’s older brother. Lognion has taken their minds and bodies, one by one, inheriting the throne from himself each time.”

  Will was tired, and the revelations he was hearing were too much for him. He had one overriding priority. “Where is my mother?”

  “Where no one will find her,” said Grim Talek. “She’s safe from Lognion, for the moment.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she will be comfortable and well kept, so long as you act in accordance with my wishes. She has the very best caretaker after all—her son, who arrived just in time to save her.”

  Tiny had heard enough. Moving forward he drew his sword and raised it, intending to dismember what was left of the lich’s body. He managed two steps before his legs folded and he slowly slumped to the ground, sound asleep. Will wasn’t surprised, though; he remained focused on the threat to his mother. “You think you can put a leash on me, is that it?”

  “I had two intentions today. Creating goodwill, or perhaps a debt in my favor, and failing that, showing you exactly what could happen if you don’t behave.”

  His jaw clenched. “I won’t be your tool.”

  “If you weren’t so damned stubborn, we could use different terms, such as mentor and student, or perhaps even allies. This situation is entirely framed by your imperfect perception of a dire situation, a situation in which you badly need more knowledge. I am here to teach, guide, and when necessary, command. I’ll do whatever is necessary to see that you play your role properly.”

  “I’m not taking orders from you. Ever. Mom wouldn’t want me to negotiate with an evil as foul as yourself.”

  The lich somehow managed to sigh, despite the condition of his body. “It’s always the stick with you, and people wonder why I rarely bother with the carrot. Very well, let me explain the full extent of the situation between the two of us. Your mother is merely symbolic. Everyone you know, love, or care about, is essentially a hostage to guarantee your behavior. Your wife, your sisters, your one surviving cousin, the butler you’ve made friends with, the cook, Agnes Nerrow, the sleeping oaf here with us now, and many, many more—all of them are within my grasp.

  “I have been following you for some time, William. Longer than you realize. I have talked to your friends and family. I know their voices, faces, and habits. I have been your not-so-silent twin for a considerable length of time. So before you decide to be stubborn, give a thought to exactly how many people’s futures hang on your decisions. Bad things could happen to any of them, things far worse than merely dying.

  “I’m attempting to be civilized. Cooperation is far more productive than the alternative options. I rescued Erisa, Tish, and your bastard child as a kindness to you, not because I needed them. There is no one I cannot touch. The world is my hostage, William. The only person in it I would have feared to kill is the one you slew yesterday. Does that help you understand the magnitude of the mistake you made?”

  Will stared at the talking corpse and felt the horror sink in, but he didn’t let it overwhelm him. It tempered his anger, and somewhere between fear and shock, his brain continued to work through his problems. As the pause grew longer, Grim Talek began to talk once more, but Will held up a finger. “I need a minute.”

  “It doesn’t matter what y—”

  “You’ve obviously spent a colossal amount of time and energy prying into my life. You can afford to let me think about what you’ve said. If not, fine. Kill everyone. Torture them all.”

  The still-smoking head’s eyes widened. “You don’t—!”

  He interrupted, presenting his index finger again. “Shhhh.” The lich closed his mouth and Will resumed his thinking. It helped somewhat that he’d spent so much time dealing with his grandmother. Bargaining with powers beyond his reach wasn’t entirely new to him. The biggest difference between dealing with the lich and dealing with the fae was that the lich didn’t have rules and he was free to lie. And I don’t have nearly enough information to catch him if he does lie, Will noted internally.

  But there were some aspects of bargaining that were universal, and Grim Talek had already given away one key point. He absolutely needed Will. The lich had no other alternatives. For a creature that powerful to have gone to such lengths to gain leverage meant that the monster probably had an equally large need.

  “You claim the world is ending, yet you’ve obviously got a goal and you need me to achieve it. I’ll admit I was too hasty when I attacked you, but we’ve definitely established you can’t force me to do what you want. If everything is going to fall into ruin anyway then I don’t have much incentive to help you,” said Will.

  Grim Talek interrupted him, “You have two reasons to help me. The first, as I mentioned before, is that there are worse fates than death and you can’t protect your people from me. The second is that stopping the ruin of this world is my ultimate goal.”

  “You’re an abomination, the antithesis of life, and you expect me to believe you care about the world?” asked Will, incredulous. “You created the Drak’shar to serve you, unleashing a plague upon the world. You brought the Shimerans to Darrow and ended up enabling the summoning of a demon-lord, who nearly destroyed everything. I’ve seen, with my own eyes, how you enjoy torturing your servants.”

  “And yet you asked me for the spell to do the same, and then used it on a man who displeased you,” countered the lich. “You killed the king yesterday, not for justice, but for personal revenge. How many innocents died while you took your revenge? Don’t bother answering. I already know you don’t truly know or care. Don’t preach to me about motives or virtue, for we both know the only reason for any of this is power.”

  The last remark stung, but Will ignored it. “Get to the point. Moralizing and pretending you have a lofty goal isn’t something I’ll believe. What is it that you specifically want from me?”

  “Something you’ve already proven is possible. I want you to kill a dragon.”

  A strange calm washed over him. “Lognion?”

  “That would be nice, but I doubt it’s possible,” replied the lich. “Lognion is older than I am, and even for a dragon his age, he is immense. Killing him would also be pointless as he is leaving this world. It’s his brood you need to worry about now. They will be much smaller when they hatch, though they’re still nearly impossible to kill.”

  “What did you mean when you said I proved it was possible?”

  “You killed two egg guardians.”

  Will chewed his lip as he thought. “The things that were protecting the king?”

  Grim Talek did his best to nod, though the muscles controlling his neck were barely working. “Yes. Stunted and sterile, dragons produce some of them with every brood to guard the eggs.”

  “Those were dragons?”

  “They were of the same flesh, although as I understand it, the young dragons usually devour them after hatching, along with each other. Compared to the hatchlings, they are small and weak, but the fact that you managed to kill two of them has proven a theory I’ve been working on for longer than you can imagine. You used the dagger, correct?”

  Will remained silent for a short time, then replied, “So you don’t know everything.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, of course not,” snapped the lich. “I can’t be everywhere, nor can my agents. After the explosion, none of my informants were close enough to see how you finished things.”

  “That was rather honest of you,” said Will, surprised that the creature had admitted to lacking anything.

  “I don’t need deception in this case. I need information, so I need you to answer my question. Did you kill them with the dagger, or using some spectacular method I haven’t thought of?”

  Seeing no advantage in withholding the information, Will explained his fight with Lognion and his final guardians. Grim Talek stopped him several times, asking for clarification on particular points, and he seemed particularly interested in the reaction the demon-steel had at the end. “So it burst into black flames?” asked the lich.

  Will nodded. “It does that when it has absorbed a certain amount of energy. Normally it takes something extraordinary to cause it to happen so quickly. The turyn has to be drained off, otherwise—”

  Grim Talek interrupted him, “I’m well aware of the properties of demon-steel, William. The first mage-smiths based their research into the dark metal on my preliminary work, though I doubt they realized it.”

  “Why were you studying demon-steel?” asked Will in spite of himself.

  “I’ve been around thousands of years. Time enough to study lots of things, and…” The lich paused briefly. “I had my reasons. Be grateful I did, otherwise things like your breastplate and the dagger I gave you wouldn’t have been possible, and you wouldn’t have lived to see this day.”