Chapter 1 Istola had never seen such a dark day.

It was a day where the sun was hidden behind the clouds; where fighting had been breaking out almost nonstop. It was the day they would loose their greatest protection. The day the village would fall. Forever. The village of Istola itself was almost secret, hidden in the highlands. Maybe it was because nobody was brave enough to talk about it. Maybe it was because it held so many secrets. Nobody knew, and nobody cared. Bryrony glared at the once-beautiful landscape. She remembered when the grass was green, when the trees were lush with fruit. When her mother had lived. The now barren field did nothing to lift her mood. Nothing seemed to lift her mood nowadays. She hated the way the people of her hometown were always at war with themselves, always too busy to help guard the gates from raids. Too busy to remember she was even there. Her lush, dark brown hair curled at her waist, framing her sharp features gorgeously, and brown eyes that showed no feeling. Showing feeling was a sign of weakness and weakness meant you died. Bryrony had learned that the hard way. Her eyes narrowed to slits, her hands balling at her sides, her face both a sight of beauty and intense hatred. Better to hate than to be sorrow, she thought. Better to lash out at the people who caused the sorrow, rather than letting them beat you down. "What is wrong, my dove?" a scratchy voice whispered beside her. Bryrony gritted her teeth. "Madam Beatrice, you are lucky you do not have a dagger in your heart. Never sneak up on me, remember what happened last time?" Bryrony thought she heard the voice chuckle. While she was putting on an angry front, her heart was racing. Beatrice always creeped up, always making sure you were caught off-guard. "Darling," she smiled, coming into view, her aged blue eyes lit up. "You are an ignorant and foolish child." Bryrony frowned. "Excuse me?" Madam Beatrice, her nanny, pursed her thin lips. "You call yourself a warrior of the village, yet an old friend can scare you so easily. You should be prepared for everything, with your reputation. Apparently you aren't as good as you seem to think." Bryrony clutched her dagger tightly, anger and a small feeling of pain crossing through her chest. Her nanny had always encouraged her to be the best she could be. She always told Bryrony what a successful warrior she was. Always telling her much of her father could always been seen through her bright brown eyes. Was that all some sort of scam? Did Beatrice even care? "Why do you speak to me in such a manner?" Bryrony hissed, the hurt she was feeling carefully concealed. "Why shouldn't I?" Madam Beatrice replied nonchalantly. "You are old enough to be spoken to truthfully." "You witch!" Bryrony raged, turning her intense eyes onto the woman she thought she loved. Her hand never went from her dagger; her mind never left the

pain she was feeling deep inside her. That feeling that she needed somebody to trust, to lean on. It was childish of her to think of trust. Of love. She knew that, yet Beatrice was like her mother. "Going to harm an old lady?" she laughed, her eyes seemed to be glazed over. "Not that you could. You never could beat anybody with actual skills. Raiders are mindless zombies with scarce training. I myself could take them down easily." Pain forgotten, Bryrony lashed out, her dagger held at Madam Beatrice's throat. "What are you playing at, Beatrice?" No sign of fear filled the older woman, if anything she looked happy. "Playing? I'm not playing. I am trying to get you to leave. Prove your so called talents elsewhere. They aren't needed here." "Leave?" Bryrony asked, for the first time in years fear unwillingly creeped upon her young features. Madam Beatrice smiled, knowing she had finally gotten the reaction she was hoping for. "Yes, leave. Now if you will." "And what do you mean I'm not needed here!" Bryrony raged, ignoring her nanny's last comment. "If it weren't for me the city would be gone! The raiders would have taken everything! How dare you!" Of course there was another reason Bryrony was resisting the idea of leaving. But there was no way she was going to bring that up. Her past would put her in real danger. Her past would not agree with her leaving, it would possibly destroy her, possibly destroy everybody she knew. "Of course you're going to leave," Beatrice said in a scolding sort of way. "You can't expect to live here forever." "And why not?" retorted Bryrony. "Because," Madam Beatrice said with a sneer, her still glazed-over eyes filled with a sneaky happiness. "The strongest raiders on Steele are marching up the hill right now to kill you. Leaving might be your only chance." Bryrony's stomach clenched as she heard hundreds of footsteps marching in unison. Ebony frowned at the scene before her. She thought that he was done with this. Her quick-to-a-fight friend was once against picking a battle he once again could not win. "Lucan, seriously," she sighed in exasperation, her hand going through her short black hair. Lately he seemed more on-edge, never keeping his head down when he should, always lashing out at the least practical time. "Stay out of this, Ebony," Lucan said, his fierce green eyes narrowed at his opponent. Who, by the way was a six-foot tall ripped dude who looked like he wanted to tear Lucan's head off. Okay, so Lucan wasn't the brightest apple in the bunch. "Lucan, seriously," Ebony repeated, attempting to pull him back. The dude snorted. "That's right, punk. Let your girlfriend fight for you." As angry as Lucan was to that comment, he knew Ebony was angrier. Anybody who knew Ebony knew she was one of the few people on Erkerly with patience. She would plan out her opponents demise, and it wouldn't fail. Now it was Lucan's time to pull her back, her Middle Eastern complexion and terrifying dark blue eyes glaring fiercely. She wasn't tall for sixteen, but she was fast and smart. She would always think before she struck, never letting the enemy get the better

of her. One of the reasons she was starting to get so well known. "Ebony" Lucan tried, his strong hand wrapping around her wrist. Ebony turned her glare to him and he unconsciously let go, backing down. This wasn't his fight anymore, it was hers. The man drew a sword, making Lucan take a few thoughtful steps back. This would be a harder fight than Ebony had first thought. The idea of Ebony fighting the warrior seemed to humor him. Whats so funny? Ebony hissed, her mind racing to all the different ways she could use the weapons she kept carefully concealed in her outfit. He laughed again. It is beneath my honor to battle a woman half my size. Lucky for me, I take no shame in defeating a man twice mine. And like that she lashed out, daggers flashing dangerously in the air. The man blocked her first few blows, but his stance and balance were clumsy, and within a minute he was starting to teeter, beads of sweat forming on his pudgy face. She kept fighting. Fear passed beneath his dark eyes, his fighting renewed slightly. It still wasnt enough to defeat Ebony, but she admired his persistency. His long steel sword dropped to the ground with a clang. Lucan looked away as the man fell, blood dripping out of his multiple wounds. His stomach tightened slightly as Ebonys intense glare narrowed onto him, making him wince. You need to stop this, she said, exasperation stringing throughout her proud voice. Hey, Lucan protested, putting his hands up in front of him. It wasnt my fault he decided to I dont want to hear it! Ebony snapped, the exasperation more clearly profound now. If you keep picking fights you cannot win, youre going to die. Dont you realize that? He was going to die anyway, but he didnt mention that to her. Look Im sorry, Lucan tried instead, his voice lighter. Ill try to keep in the shadows now, okay? Ebony barely heard him; she was more focused on the ripples in the darkness, the small sound of crunching leaves that nobody without trained hearing would notice. Somebody was watching them. Actually, Ebony said to Lucans confusion. Keeping to the shadows isnt such a good idea right now. Sir Captrice hated the city of Erkerly. It was so large and bustling, it was hard to keep hidden, hard to keep his identity a secret. He rarely visited, and when he did it was only for dire situations. He saw that in the forty years hed been gone much had changed. The towering buildings shined with the wealth that had so generously been poured into them. The general population had almost tripled, and it was common to see fights breaking out every few hours. It was pointless, mindless fighting between people who were uneducated and hardly trained. Erkerly might have been the largest city on Steele, and the wealthiest, but the crime rate was much too hard to ignore. Many nights ago Sir Captrice had dreamed of a quest that must be issued. It was a dream of a quest that involved three teens, a quest that might save or destroy them all.

He didnt know if the dream was valid. It was always hard to tell on the continent of Steele. Sometimes dreams became a reality, sometimes they got you killed. Sir Captrice was seeking the help of the Teller, the only one that could determine such a trifle. He knew where she dwelled, as she had been there for many centuries. Even with the uptake of the city boarders, he knew she would not budge. Careful to keep in the shadows, he slowly made his way to the rundown cottage in the middle of the Eastern Forest. It was a small relief to him, seeing that cottage, to know that some things had remained untouched. While Erkerly was grand, it slightly hurt his heart to see all the problems that had arisen to the city he had been born in. No time to think about that now, Sir Captrice muttered to himself, reaching the closest he could come to the ivy-woven home. Teller! he shouted. I seek your advice! An hour seemed to pass before she finally came out. Though she was many centuries old, she was still a sight of young beauty, flaxen hair dropping gorgeously to her waist. Her crude, all-knowing eyes flickered upon the spot Sir Captrice was concealed in. Captrice, is it? she called, her voice smooth and intoxicating. She didnt wait for him to answer. You seek the meaning of your dream, yes? Again, she didnt wait for his reply. The meaning is simple. You must issue the quest. Two of the three are in Erkerly, and Im sure you can easily find them. The third will be harder, and I refuse to give you the details. The quest will take only a few days. If they succeed, Steele will no longer be at war with herself. If they do not, we will all perish. Baird grows stronger. Before he could respond, she walked back into the cottage, the smallest traces of light that were once in the forest were diminished, leaving Sir Captrice in total darkness to think about what the Teller had said. If Baird grows stronger, we have much to worry indeed, he muttered to himself. Bryrony didnt take the time to pack anything. She didnt take the time to say good-bye to her father, the father who was never around, who left her to her now retarded old nanny. She listened to the deafening sound of marching coming toward the highlands; she felt fear creeping up her stomach, making her sick. Stay or fight. It shouldnt be this hard. If she fought, she might die. Nobody would congratulate her if she won. Nobody ever noticed. They deserved to die, never thanking the one person who kept them alive. But this was also her home, her birthplace. She couldnt just leave it undefended. Choose wisely, my child, Madam Beatrice had hissed before disappearing into the village. Choose wisely, sure. Die in the village or be murdered out of it. None of the options looked appealing. Better to die for her home than for the people who longed to kill her; even if nobody would remember her. At least she would have done something. Her mind decided, Bryrony took one last look at Istola. It would burn to the ground that day. It would be forgotten, unheard of.

She fled.

Chapter 2 Ebony and Lucan ran through the streets of Erkerly, searching for at least one safe haven. One place where they could finally rest without worry. Especially after last night, when Ebony had had a cruel terrifying dream. A dream that might just get both her and Lucan killed. That might unleash a terror onto the cities. Wont your mom worry? Ebony wondered as they hid behind a wall, listening to the people chasing them run past. Lucan looked pained. No, was all he said. And the way he said it made Ebony completely eliminate the possibility of questioning him further. They ran again in the opposite direction. Whoever was chasing them seemed to know their next move every time, and it was getting harder to thwart them. They ran down the Main Road, Ebony letting Lucan lead her. Shed heard stories about the Main Road, but she always lived so far away she never got to see if they were valid. It was said that you could grow up in one part of Erkerly and never see the other half. A saying that was true for most everybody who lived there. Lucan seemed to know where he was going though, so Ebony trusted him. He knew the back-roads better than anybody, though as to why she never had the courage to ask. Do you think we should follow my dream? Ebony hissed into the darkness, keeping her head low. Ebony, really! he insinuated, his light green eyes filled with the fear and exasperation she herself was feeling earlier. Nows not the time! To prove his point, he motioned the the footsteps passing up and down the alleyways, the sound of metal being drawn. Ebony cringed, it wouldnt be long now. Though she saw wisdom in what Lucan said, she couldnt help with disagreeing. Now was the perfect time to talk about it. It would decide if they stayed in the city avoiding the people who were after them, or leave into the open world. They crouched behind a car, maneuvering their legs behind the wheels so their feet woudnt be seen. Lucan, are we leaving or not? Her heart stopped as she heard the people galumph on the other side of the car. Pain laced through Lucans sharp complexion, his broad shoulders heaving from running for so long. Were leaving, he said as if it were the worst choice in the world. Only because I cant let them get to you. Ebony frowned at the way he said you. He said it like she was the most important thing in the world, like he really cared for her. But that was stupid, of course he did. They had been close ever since they were kids. There was nothing weird about the way he said you, even if inside her she knew there was. But how do we get out? Were in the middle of Erkerly, being chased by two people I cant even differentiate, Ebony muttered, pulling Lucan back into the

shadows just before the people saw him. He turned to her, his light green eyes as burnished as his brown hair, a smile written across his lips. It wasnt a happy smile, the one she was used to seeing on him. No, this smile was dark and dangerous, filled with mischief and uncertainty, boosting Ebonys respect for him if only a little bit. Follow me. Sir Captrice watched the youths flee the city. He also watched the assassins follow after them. Fear tightened in his gut as he realized who the young boy was. Those two assassins would only be after one person; the one who made their life hell. Uttering a curse he continued to follow them in the shadows, knowing he should warn them of the assassins, but also knowing because of his past he would never come out of the darkness again. He would never remember how sunlight felt on his skin, or even how he looked. He longed to remember how he looked. Lucan, Sir Captrice heard the shorter youth mutter. Somebody is following us. The two assa I mean the two people? He saw her frown, her stunning dark-blue eyes lit up with a dangerous curiosity. No. Somebody in the woods. In the shadows. Sir Captrice walked faster, his heart racing. They couldnt find him yet, not until they found the third quest member, whoever that was. The girl matched his speed, her now terrifying eyes contemplating the forest Sir Captrice was so carefully hidden in. He backed up further into the umbrage, expecting her to deduce his hiding place at any second. As to what happened next he wasnt sure if it had saved him or destroyed him. All he knew was a hand he had acquainted with once before clamped hard onto his well secluded shoulder; harsh long nails digging deep into his skin. Its nice to see you again, Captrice, a cacophonous voice whispered into his ear. Bryrony raced down the hill, not permitting fear nor guilt to pass through her. She dashed into the woods, avoiding the hundreds of bandits marching up to Istola. There was more than she could have ever anticipated. Maybe it was a good thing she left. The city didnt stand a chance anyways. And, as Madam Beatrice put it, it was time to test her skills away from bandits, and on the people who longed so dearly to kill her. Who were bidding her time until she left the villages safety, when she was most vulnerable. Bryrony had been running for miles, never stopping to look back or think about what she had done. Never letting out the tears that longed to spill down her cheeks. She was stronger than that. She might have left her village in its time of need, she might have lashed out at the ones she thought she loved, but she would not cry. She sat down, massassing her long well-muscled legs. She could have ran longer further, but there was no need. She might as well conserve her strength, seeing as the moment she came out of hiding she could be killed. Instead, she closed her weary brown eyes, resting her head on the hard ground

and unwillingly letting dreams spill into her mind. Bryrony was giggling with her two best friends. She was six years old, sitting on the soft grass, loving the way the wind was blowing through her hair. Her friend with the electric blue eyes laughed again, but for some reason Bryrony couldnt remember her name. They were chattering about something meaningless, just enjoying the beautiful day. One of the few they would ever see again. Bryrony! called a deep voice from across the field, worry laced throughout it. Oh, daddys calling, she said to her friends who both moaned. Ill see you tomorrow! She raced down the hill, hoping nothing bad had happened. Whats wrong, daddy? she asked, hugging his leg. His expression softened, his aged brown eyes gleaming with a small pride that his daughter seemed to have inherited. Nothings wrong, sweetheart, he murmured, his right hand that was once hidden behind his back now came forward, a small sword now in its place. He handed it to her and she almost dropped it, the blade clumsy in her hands. Why would he be giving her a sword? As if reading her thoughts he smiled sadly. I fear, my young one, that the time to come will be harsh. Today, he said, brandishing his own sword. You learn to fight. Lucan uneasily followed Ebony through the West forest. He stumbled a few times when they came to mossy areas, making snide remarks at her as she walked over them with ease. He hated wildlife, he hated anything that he didnt know. The back-streets on any place in Erkerly, sure. He could get from anywhere to anywhere there. There was no indecision, the street plans made sense. But in the forest? Forget it. There was no way he could tell where anything was. All the trees looked the same, and he took no pleasure in climbing clumsily over boulders. Hurry up, Lucan! Ebony shouted for the hundredth time from far ahead. Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness, Lucan shouted back, relishing in the fact that he had said that quote more times than he could count. Some to think of it, most of those times had been with Ebony... Whatever swellhead, just hurry up. She always answered him that whenever he said his quote. It was sort of like a tradition. He grinned an pushed on, finally seeing her tanglement of short, coal colored hair. Except something was wrong, her face was filled with confusion and terror. As Lucan came closer, he understood why. A tall woman wearing a cape, beads and jewels wrapping around her arms and legs, was holding a dagger up to somebody; her long fingers clutched around the poniard, its hilt golden, gems making increment patterns throughout it shine. Lucan narrowed his eyes, trying to see who her captive was, but in this area it was so caliginous it was hard to make sense of anything. He could see the outline of a man, but he couldnt see any colors on him like he could on the woman. It looked as if she were holding a shadow. Completely inumbrate. Take one step closer, the woman said, her voice deep and guttural, and he

dies. At first Lucan assumed she was talking about the shadow, but then he heard footsteps behind him. The footsteps of the assassins. She wasnt talking about the man, she was talking about Lucan. Chapter 3 It took everything Ebony had not to lash out. She didnt know why she felt so angry; normally that kind of rage was controlled, and was never once an issue. But this was Lucan, so it was different. Oh, come now, Ebony coaxed, taking a step forward. The woman pursed her thin lips but did nothing. Apparently she wasnt intent on killing them there, at least for now. Im only going to say this once, Ebony said sweetly, very aware of the assassins taking a few steps forward as well, get out of my way. Lucan whispered a warning from behind her and the woman looked ready to burst out laughing, like the sight of a five-foot tall teenager was no threat. A hand gripped her arm so tightly she couldnt help but grimace. Her heart relaxed as she realized it was Lucans. Dont mess with them, Eb, he muttered almost desperately. You do not want them as your enemies. Ebony shrugged him off. She did not give into abdication without a fight. When the woman realized that Ebony wasnt joking around, her sneer turned into a glare. You understand what this will mean. She didit would mean three more people would be after herand it hardly made a difference. She slid silently into a fighting stance, hearing exactly where the two murderers were behind her. She drew the double sided, smooth steel dagger out of her pocket... ...and held it up to Lucans throat. She felt him go rigid, his breathing increased. Her toes ached in protest as she stood up them, barely reaching, but high enough that if he moved his throat would be slit. What do you think youre doing, witch? the woman hissed, her own dagger oddly sheathed and the shadow seeming to be by her side out of pure curiosity. Let us go, or he dies. The people behind them made no audible step forward, and Ebony relaxed her breathing a fraction. Before anything else could be doneor reasoneda knife hurled through the air with terrifying accuracygrazing her hand with the dagger in it just deep enough that she had to drop it. Dammit, she hissed, picking up the dagger with her left hand. But the damage had been done, and everybody was scrambling forward to fight. Although Ebonys left hand wasnt her dominant, she had practiced many hard hours to be perfect in both. She blocked the upward slash of one of the assassins scimitar, ducked low and cut at his feet. While he struggled to get up, she ran over to help Lucan who was in hand-to-hand combat with the other one. She brought her dagger down in a graceful ark to his head, knocking him out with the hilt, the force of the impact making her hand throb.

Eb, duck! shouted Lucan. She dropped to the ground, hearing the swoosh of metal over her head. Muttering a curse she rolled to the side, kicked back her attacker with both feet, and slammed him hard in the stomach with the flat of her blade. Persistent dullards, Ebony muttered, whapping him on the leg as he swung a fist as her face. She kicked him in his soft spot and knocked him out with a blow to the head. She scanned the perimeter with narrowed eyes, looking for the woman with the jeweled dagger. Lucan walked up to her, bright green eyes seeming to be darkened, and not because of the dim of the forest. She just disappeared, the shadow too. Ebony kicked up some dirt. Whatever, we need to keep moving. Theyll wake up sooner or later. Lucan nodded, but his gaze was not triumphant or welcoming. He was angry. After a while of walking in silence Ebony couldnt take it anymore. Lucan, whats up with you? For a moment he just kept walking, and she was worried he was going to ignore her. Then he stopped, without turning around, his foot idly tracing patterns in the dirt road. You could have died. She restrained from snorting. She could have died? He was the one who kept picking fights, sending them further into hiding and secrets. I know what Im doing. How... how did you know she wouldnt attack? I listen and observe, swellhead. It took everything she had not to start laughing at his naivety. She had to remember he hadnt been raised to learn to fight. The part of Erkerly he grew up in was rare in violence, and it brought Ebony to wonder why two assassins would be after him. You dont know who these people are. I cant believe I let you fight them... Ebony lit up with anger. I choose who I fight, Lucan. I can take care of myself, and I saved your hide a few times in case you didnt notice. I dont need some guy pretending that She stopped as the mind piercing dreams spilled into her head, knocking her to the ground. Lucan caught Ebonys tiny frame as she convulsed to the ground. He knew dreams had been haunting her at night, but to have one attack in the day made him worry. It was rare for that to happen, and after her previous nightmare he wasnt looking forward to the result. Stop! she shouted, her coal-blue eyes fluttering open, tears welling in them. Lucan? Im here, he assured her with a sly smile, and added, What do your Teller abilities bring us this time? Hopefully not a llama again. She smacked him with a surprising strength for somebody who had just fainted. Shut up, swellhead, she warned, pushing herself off the ground and whacking away his hand. This is serious. Like were gonna die serious, or theres a wacky power-charged lizard after us

again serious? She rolled her eyes, turning her back to him and started walking at a pace so fast even Lucan, who had considerably longer legs, had trouble keeping up with. Her eyes were filled with such a fiery determination Lucan decided against teasing. For the moment, anyway. Bryrony woke up in cold sweat, her heart racing, visions of the nightmare pounding through her skull so hard it hurt. She waited a few minutes as her heart slowed, then checked her bag to make sure she had everything, and shakily stood up. It would not be safe to stay any longer, if she wished to live, that was. She also noticed its darker in this forest than it should be in the daytime. Even with the thickly packed trees, light should be spilling through the heavens on a could-less morning only it isnt. Suspicion overcoming fear, she tread along the boarders of the forest, looking for something even remotely out of place. Her well trained vision couldnt have been less-accurate, her perfect hearing picking up the smallest crack of a twig, the faintest call of a bird in the far distance. Somebody was watching her. She smiled. Oh I know youre here, she taunted, turning her head directly where the shadows had gathered, to the faintest sound of harsher breathing that always came from her prey before they died. Come out, you coward. To her slight surprise and impatients, the voice replied in a cherry, humble tone. Trust me, if I could, I would. There are many secrets of this world even you have not interpreted yet. Frowning now, yet not letting her hand away from her sword, she spoke. Who are you? The voice was definitely that of a male. Call me Sir Renald Captrice, replied the voice just as happily as it spoke the first time, but under it she still heard the harsh breathing of tense fear, which soothed her, if only a little bit. So Captrice, Bryrony said somewhat sarcastically. Do you mind if I ask you why you are watching me? She pulled a sharp silver dagger from her boot and started absently playing with it, looking into the umbrage for a fuller response. Do you really want to know? the voice asked, this time dark and dangerous, letting her know this was no joke. You could die. We could all die. Or you could die, if you dont start chocking up information, she grinned, but more a grin of a dangerous predator. Come, the voice said, not fiercly, but in such a tone her father had commanded her with as a child. She gritted her teeth, but wanting to see whom this mysterious person was, she came. As she stepped into the umbrage, she expected to see a man sitting there, cleverly waiting for her to step into a trap. But that didnt happen. She didnt see anybody. Look closer, the voice urged, and her head snapped in that direction, the darkness of the forest filling her with the childish fears shed grown up on. But then, she saw him. Or more like she saw his shadow. It was odd, she could see that he was solid, tall and broad, in some eyes he probably didnt look more than twenty years of age but Bryrony knew better. His eyes told his secret, they held age and time

and sorrow, the pupils almost white, but not quite there yet. His body itself was translucent, as if he were a ghost, but no, he was very much alive. He was one of the few creatures Bryrony had encountered that didnt seem to fear death, who had given up. Ah, now you see, Sir Captrice said, nodding to her in appreciation. Forgive me, but I am not permitted out of the shadows. A curse, she said, almost a whisper. How old are you? He laughed softly. Bright one, you are. But I am not the one at danger here. I have come to issue a quest. Bryrony didnt smile, she stood, frozen in place. Quests were given to those who were almost sure to die during them, who would have been remembered dying for a better world. Accepting a quest meant that you accepted the idea that it is set, and there is nothing you can do to change anything, which Bryrony certainly didnt. Not to me you arent, she snapped and started walking out of the shadows. He laid a cold hand on her, watching as her shoulder started going translucent as well. Fear roared through her stomach. Stop it! she shrieked, pulling back further. You said you wanted to know my curse, Captrice said sadly. I have been alive for five-hundred ninety-eight years. Bryrony gaped. In the shadows? Like this? He nodded. I want you to know, young warrior, that I would not issue this if it werent necassary. I see what happens. Bryrony nodded, her curiosity winning out. Tell me what the quest is, but I do not accept, not yet. Baird grows stronger, much stronger than I could have ever imagined. Our world, Garlo, cannot be at constant war. You of all people would understand why. We need this problem solved. Your companions are here, by the way, across the field. You can trust them. What? Bryrony exclaimed. This is an impossible quest! Captrice! But he had already disappeared into the shadows.