Everyone—guards and prisoners alike—stood frozen in shock, stupefied by what had just happened.

  Xilly? Rellen thought. It couldn’t be.

  A tall figure in tattered, saffron-colored silks stepped out from behind the wagon. He held a large, gleaming scimitar in one hand and a crossbow in the other. He raised the crossbow and fired at the nearest guard. The bolt chunked into the guard’s leather cuirass, staggering him back. The guard fell onto his back, clutching at the shaft sticking out the center of his chest. He gave one, bloody, gurgling grunt and went still.

  “Jaquinn!” Rellen shouted. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “Kill him!” one of the guards shouted, pointing at Jaquinn.

  The six remaining guards scrambled to their feet as Xilly flew over the campsite again.

  Three of the guards reached for the crossbows they’d laid on the grass. The rest drew their blades.

  In the distance, Mygal shrieked in pain. It cut off. A moment later, Javyk screamed in terror. As his voice faded, the ring of steel clashing on steel rose upon the air.

  Several of the guards hesitated, turning toward the new conflict with confusion on their faces.

  As three of the guards charged Jaquinn, he raised his hand and seemed to freeze, his face a mask of concentration. The other guards raised their crossbows. An instant later, the crossbow strings snapped in their faces, but not before one bolt shot out, swerving wildly to the right.

  The bolt struck Tavyn in the shoulder and pinned him to the wagon. He yowled in pain.

  Jaquinn came to life, raising his blade to parry a slash from the closest guard.

  “The stones!” Rellen screamed at Xilly. Jaquinn was about to be outnumbered six to one. “Move the stones!”

  Xilly folded her wings and dove.

  The other guards drew their swords as the first three engaged Jaquinn. They slashed and thrust. Jaquinn parried and dodged, stepped back, gave ground to keep them from surrounding him. He’d been badly beaten, but his scimitar was a blur as he kept the first three at bay.

  Xilly hit the ground at Rellen’s feet, just outside the glowing lines of energy. She charged the nearest stone and slammed her body into it, shoving with her front legs. The stone rolled over. The energy surged, flaring bright—and detonated with a release of light and sound that hammered into Rellen’s body.

  Stunned, Rellen shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. His entire body tingled with the jolt of energy that had passed through him. Blinking, he regained his senses, and the scene came into focus.

  The three closest guards had staggered sideways. They shook their heads, dazed.

  Jaquinn now faced two opponents. The third lay on the ground groaning with a deep belly wound from which a river of blood poured out onto the grass.

  Xilly lay on the ground just past the campfire, motionless, with her neck, legs, and wings akimbo. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from her body.

  “Xilly!” Rellen screamed, despair and rage filling his heart.

  “Rellen!” Miranda barked urgently. “We’re free…”

  He met her gaze. The buzzing in his mind was gone. He reached out and could feel his majea once again stirring within his breast. Xilly had done it—but at a terrible cost.

  Miranda turned her eyes to the nearest guard, and her face twisted into rage. “Pain,” she growled in a voice guttural and primitive.

  The guard shrieked in agony. He crumpled to the ground, writhing, and his screams went on, sounding as if he’d been set on fire.

  Tavyn lifted his head and seemed to focus on the captain. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and he looked pale. His face compressed into one of intense concentration. “Free your friends.” His pained voice rose above the screams and the clashing battle Jaquinn still fought. He locked eyes with the captain. “We’re in trouble. We need your help.”

  A shock of realization slammed into Rellen. Tavyn was an erkurioi. He’d lied the entire time. With that, everything fell into place. He had attacked Mygal in Svennival. Rage and betrayal surged through Rellen. He wanted to kill Tavyn right then and there, but he couldn’t. He needed him—for now.

  The captain regained his senses, and an almost friendly smile crossed his face. He stared back at Tavyn, his head cocked to the side.

  “That’s it,” Tavyn said through clenched teeth. “Help your friends…” He groaned with the strain… “Stop… fighting me… you bastard… Now.”

  The captain swayed slightly, and then he straightened up.

  “Captain?” the guard beside him said.

  The captain glanced at his subordinate, a strange look on his face. Anger blossomed there. In a fluid motion, he placed his hand on the guard’s shoulder and drove his sword up with a quick thrust. The blade entered beneath the guard’s chin and sprang out the top of his head, covered in blood.

  The guard jerked once.

  The captain released the blade, letting the guard crumple to the ground. He turned back to Tavyn, a strangely satisfied look on his face.

  “Free me first,” Rellen ordered, looking to Tavyn, whose face was still contorted with concentration. “We’ll settle up once all of this is over. Trust me. I can get us out of here.”

  Tavyn gave him a sidelong glance, a worried expression on his face. He nodded and turned back to the captain. “You heard my friend.”

  The captain strode straight toward Rellen.

  Rellen closed his eyes and tapped deeply into his majea. He’d used this spell to release leather bonds and entangle the garments of his opponents. What he had in mind would take a good deal more energy, but fueled by his rage and hate, he had plenty to spare. He focused his will and shaped small, potent symbols in the air with his hands. As he completed the spell, his majea coursed through his limbs and spread out across his bonds. An instant later, the chains rattled, quivering and shifting as they strained against the padlock that secured them.

  The captain grasped the padlock, inserted the key, and twisted. The hasp clicked and came free.

  Rellen’s smile was predatory. He poured all his rage for Xilly’s loss, his hatred of the Nissrans, and the betrayal of the traitorous guards and Tavyn into the magic that pulsed within the chains. He wrapped his mind around them. In a flash, the length of chain erupted in a blur of motion. It uncoiled itself from around Rellen's arms, slipped through the posts and boards of the wagon, and slithered from around his torso like an angry snake.

  “Hold him, Tavyn,” Rellen commanded grimly.

  “You better hurry,” Tavyn said through gritted teeth.

  The chains became a living thing, coiling, writhing, and clinking at Rellen’s feet. He stepped away from the wagon and turned to help Jaquinn, who barely kept ahead of the guard’s blades as they rained blows down, pushing him up to the edge of the trees.

  “Enough!” Rellen shouted. He looked down at the long length of chain, and like some mad serpent, it slithered and streaked through the grass. Rellen willed one end of the chain to coil up a guard’s leg. The other end wrapped around the other guard’s leg. Loop after loop spiraled up and around their legs, torsos, and finally necks.

  They screamed out their shock and fear.

  Jaquinn staggered back, leaning against a tree as he sucked in air. He was covered with small cuts.

  Rellen closed his fist, tightening the loops around their necks.

  Both guards dropped their swords, clutching at the chains that choked the life out of them. Rellen squeezed harder… and harder. The guards gurgled, gagged. Their breaths came out in raspy bursts until, finally, the sound was cut off completely. They stiffened, their faces crimson and eyes bulging as they clawed at the chains. First one fell over, and then the other. Rellen waited for their legs to stop kicking. He waited a little longer, his knuckles white as everyone watched the guards die.

  Finally, Rellen relaxed his fist. His grip on the spell slipped away. The chains went slack around the two dead guards. Rellen sagged, blowing out an exhausted breath. Sucking in hard, he lifted his eyes and saw Xilly still lying on the grass. Anger surged once again.

  “I can’t hold—” Tavyn said, his voice fading.

  Rellen turned, grabbed the captain by the shoulder, and spun him around.

  The man stood before him, a friendly smile on his face that started to fade, replaced by a look of confusion.

  Rellen plucked the keyring from the captain’s hand and a dagger from his belt. He didn’t know if the captain had willingly followed Toreth or if he’d been possessed. He knew he didn’t care. “Say hello to Nissra for me,” he said quietly and drove the blade into the captain’s throat, twisting it viciously.

  The captain gurgled, a horrified look on his face.

  Rellen yanked on his shoulder again and stepped out of the way. The captain staggered and fell forward onto his face. Rellen glanced at where Javyk and the others had disappeared, wondering why they hadn’t joined the fight. Something was very wrong. He bent over to pick up a sword.

  “Let’s get those two out of there,” he said. “But keep an eye out. Javyk and three other guards went through that barrier with Mygal. I don’t know what happened, but they might just come after us now.”

  “Did they have crossbows?” Jaquinn asked as he waked over, still sucking in heavy breaths.

  “No,” Rellen replied. “You alright?” he asked, realizing how slow Jaquinn was moving.

  “I’ll manage,” Jaquinn replied. “You better hurry though,” he added, his eyes flicking to the locks that secured Miranda and Tavyn.

  Rellen leaned the sword against his leg and turned a key in one padlock, then the other. The hasps came free, and he started undoing Miranda’s chains as Jaquinn worked on freeing Tavyn.

  “We saw you go over the side,” Rellen said as he worked. “How?”

  Tavyn hissed in pain as Jaquinn jostled him. Rellen’s eyes met Tavyn’s for just a moment, but in that flicker of time, the rage in Rellen’s eyes burned through Tavyn’s pain and turned it to fear.

  “The Bhirtas’Vuoda,” Jaquinn explained. “The tribe that docks the ships in Kaichakahn Bay? Their shaman and I have been—well, you couldn’t call it friends. We’ve been allies for a very long time. His people grabbed me as I sank, and you saw what I did to those bowstrings… Chain takes longer, more majea, but it’s possible.”

  “But the water,” Rellen said, tearing his gaze away from Tavyn as he pulled another loop free. “You should have drowned.”

  “Water is just two elements, Rellen, one of which is the air we breathe,” Jaquinn replied. “Separating them is one of the first advanced lessons they teach gekurioi at the academy. It takes even more energy, but it’s possible for a talented Land Magician.”

  “You must be exhausted,” Rellen said, pulling the last loop from around Miranda’s chest. She stepped away and stretched her arms and neck.

  “Well, I won’t be bending any steel for a while,” Jaquinn said, blowing out a weary breath as he freed one of Mygal’s arms, “but I can still swing it, as you saw.” He glanced at Rellen. “My mind is spent. My body is not.”

  “One last question.”

  Jaquinn smiled knowingly. “The dragonette led me here. I believe she followed your scent.”

  Rellen shook his head. “I never dreamed—”

  “Kaichakahn is about five or six miles that way.” Jaquinn pointed almost due east past the other side of the wagon, “and the King’s Highway is a few hundred yards down a path that cuts through the forest.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing towards where Xilly lay, then said gently, “She, I hope, is an amazing little creature.”

  Pain tore at Rellen’s heart. “Thank you.” He wanted to go to her, but they had to free themselves first, in case Javyk and the soldiers came back.

  “I’ll go see about her,” Miranda said, placing a hand on Rellen’s arm.

  Rellen nodded as Jaquinn pulled the last of the chains from around Tavyn’s chest. Tavyn hissed in pain again, which gave Rellen a certain sense of satisfaction. The informant was still pinned to the wagon by the crossbow bolt, and they would have to find a way to cut the bolt or slide him off of it.

  Rellen picked up the sword and looked at the barrier again. He couldn’t imagine why Javyk and the others hadn’t attacked. And what happened to Mygal? Is he dead? A pang of fear washed through him.

  “There are saws and axes in the back of the wagon,” Jaquinn said, “along with your weapons and bandoleer.”

  “That’s something, at least,” Rellen said with a relieved breath. “Toreth said he intended to stuff one of Nissra’s demons inside me.” He shook his head at the thought of it. “That would have put two of those things in the world, and one of them a Guardian.”

  “Two that we know of,” Jaquinn corrected. “You heard the reports at the Conclave. I think this is happening all over, and whatever Toreth is doing inside Stukelladios is just a part of a larger strategy.” He looked around. “That’s where we are, isn’t it?”

  Rellen nodded. “There’s some sort of barrier over there… we can’t see what’s past it, but Toreth, Javyk, and those guards walked right through it.”

  “That would explain why nobody ever found the place,” Jaquinn said.

  “She’s alive, Rellen,” Miranda called out from where she leaned over Xilly.

  Rellen spun, hope blossoming in his heart.

  Miranda carefully picked up Xilly’s limp body and cradled the dragonette in her arms.

  “Bring her to the back of the wagon,” Rellen called out. He looked at Tavyn and narrowed his eyes. “We’ll have you off of there momentarily.” He placed the tip of the sword in the notch beneath Tavyn’s throat. “The question you should ask yourself is what happens after that.”

  “Rellen?” Jaquinn blurted. “What are you doing?”

  Rellen locked eyes with the Second Guardian. “The attack on Thirteen that brought me to Svennival?”

  “Yes…”

  “He’s the one who did it.”

  Jaquinn’s eyes went wide, and then he glared at Tavyn. He placed a hand on the grip of his scimitar, and his knuckles went pale.

  “Not yet,” Rellen said, placing a hand on Jaquinn’s arm. “I have questions that need answering.” He turned to Tavyn. “If he does exactly what I tell him, I might just commute the death sentence hanging over his head.”

  Tavyn gulped. “Whatever you need.”

  “Tell me why you’re here,” Rellen growled.

  “To get that artifact.” There was no hesitation in Tavyn’s voice, and fear filled his eyes.

  “For who?”

  “I don't know his name. He wants it, he didn't tell me why, and he pays well…” Tavyn paused for a moment. “It’s only business,” he said, as if that excused everything.

  Rellen’s knuckles went white.

  Miranda stepped up to the back of the wagon. “Rellen, can you come back here?”

  “Keep an eye on that barrier or whatever it is,” Rellen said as he passed by Jaquinn. “I’ll find a saw.”

  Jaquinn nodded.

  Rellen joined Miranda as she gently laid Xilly’s limp body on a folded-up section of canvass. The fabric was pulled partially back, and beneath lay the coil of rope the guard was after. Rellen pulled it all the way out and let it fall to the ground. He spotted their weapons further in and quickly grabbed his belt, strapping it on quickly. The weight of his falchions felt good on his hips. He pulled several large tree saws out of the way, moved a couple large axes, and found a small hand saw.

  “You’re going to let Tavyn live?” Miranda eyes held barely contained rage.

  “For now, at least. He has information I need. He’s working for someone. I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble, risked his neck, unless there was a good reason for it. Maybe it’s just coin, but I have to know who put him on us and why he drew a second Guardian into Svennival.”

  “How do you know he did that?” Miranda looked dubious.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “You wretched swine!” Javyk’s enraged voice filled the air.

  In a flash, Rellen dropped the saw and bolted out from behind the wagon just as Jaquinn spun toward Javyk’s voice.

  The Nissran stood there, his face contorted in a mask of rage. His robes had been cut along his right forearm and belly. Blood had spread out over his dark robes.

  Javyk swung his arm. A ruby scythe of light lanced out, aimed straight at Tavyn, who was still pinned to the wagon. Jaquinn stepped in front, shielding Tavyn’s body with his own. The scythe of light struck Jaquinn in the center of his chest. Blood splashed out from a gaping wound. He staggered back, slammed against the wagon, and dropped to the ground.

  “Pin him down!” Rellen shouted at Miranda, as he dashed to his left and jerked a falchion free.

  Javyk slashed again with his hand. A ruby scythe sailed straight at Rellen as he raced across the grass. He hoped Miranda was fast enough… and still strong enough.

  Miranda slashed with her own arm. The ruby scythe splintered and faded from view only a foot from Rellen’s body. She lifted her other hand and focused on Javyk. “Pain,” she roared.

  Just as Javyk was about to slash again, he cried out in pain and locked eyes with Miranda. He closed his mouth. His body went rigid. He shook as he fought to counter Miranda’s majea with his own.

  Rellen charged forward, making sure he didn’t get between the two of them.

  A low, primeval growl rose from Javyk’s lips as he strained against Miranda’s assault. Her angry roar turned to a scream of pain. She shook with agony, but her outstretched hand never wavered.

  Rellen pounded toward Javyk, whose eyes had rolled back into his head. His screams were horrifying, full of lunatic rage, like some unnatural beast that had crept out of an unholy darkness.

  Rellen closed with Javyk, raised his falchion, and swung with all of his strength. The heavy blade came down onto Javyk’s shoulder at a steep angle, cleaving through flesh and bone as it sank all the way to his sternum. Javyk’s terrible howl cut off as his eyes went wide and blood sprayed.