Chapter One: A Warning

JERRICK BUR STARED IN DISBELIEF at the green haze emanating from the creek. Blinking away sleep, he thought it a remnant of a dream until it wafted, rose, and billowed over the banks, transforming from oddity to potential threat in the span of a breath. Jerrick’s mind cleared as patroller instinct took hold. Grasping the sword he always kept close, he scuttled back. He’d only just managed to stand when the fog engulfed him.

Jerrick!

The voice echoed off the narrow canyon walls, making it impossible to tell from which direction the speaker called.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Jerrick... please...

Jerrick crouched, waiting and watching, but saw nothing but smoky emerald in every direction. The canyon grew deathly quiet. Even the rush of the stream had disappeared. Jerrick counted ten heartbeats before curiosity tugged at him. He rose and padded toward the source of the fog. His bare feet were sloshing in the water before he realized he’d reached it. At once, the stream’s silence made sense. The water lay completely still, as if time itself had stopped. Mesmerized by the stillness, Jerrick looked deep into the now mirror-like surface. The reflection staring back at him wasn’t his own.

The delicate, feminine features were familiar. Her eyes, the color of jade, and the smooth, emerald hair brought back many memories. He struggled to say something, but found no words adequate to greet the impossibility of the face looking back at him.

Jerrick... please... you must help me!

The tears streaming down her cheeks shook Jerrick from his trance.

“Aliah! What—how is this possible? Help you with what? What do you mean? Where are you?”

Dead... they’re all dead. She was sobbing.

“Who’s dead? Who—”

You must return to the Simmaron. There is so little time. You must help me!

“I’m on my way to the Simmaron now. Who’s dead, Aliah? Help you with what?”

I cannot go on alone. You must return. Together— She stopped to look over her shoulder. When next she spoke, her face loomed large on the still, watery surface. They’re coming! Anger gave strength to her voice. I will not allow them to take me. Then, with renewed urgency, There is so little time, Jerrick. Please hurry!

“Aliah, wait! What of the King’s Patrol? What—”

Her visage faded. As it disappeared completely, the mist contracted, sucked back into the water from which it had sprung. Frustrated, Jerrick interrupted the surface with his hand but found nothing. Then the last of the mist disappeared, the water’s flow resumed, and everything returned to normal.

Jerrick sat back to find Ash standing next to him.

The dog had disappeared sometime during the night, and must have only now returned. Absentmindedly, Jerrick put an arm around him as disbelief and confusion warred with each other. Dead... they’re all dead. Aliah’s foreboding words echoed in his mind. Was she talking about the patrollers? How could they all be dead? The notion struck Jerrick a heavy blow, and he found the need to rise. They’re coming. Who was coming? There was no telling. But Jerrick had seen the fear in her eyes. He’d seldom seen it there.

Jerrick shook his head clear. He was sure of only one thing. There’d be no more sleep tonight. Best he break camp and get moving. Whether coincidence or fate, the Simmaron was already his destination. Aliah couldn’t have known that, yet still she’d sought him out. They’d been friends—still were—so of course she had. But why enlist his aid when the patrollers were already in the forest? That question had no answer. Better to reach the Simmaron than waste time speculating.

Jerrick kicked dirt onto the last glowing embers of his campfire and gathered his things. With weapons at his belt, his pack slung securely over both shoulders, and his bow in one hand, he motioned for Ash to move. The dog took off running, disappearing into the darkness. Ash was a solitary creature, a frontier dog. He’d pick his own path, staying close only when the terrain or surroundings made otherwise impossible. Theirs was a relationship built on tolerance.

Partial moonlight let Jerrick maintain a steady pace. He was already deep in the foothills, his home of recent years behind him, the mountains’ rising slope underfoot after only an hour of walking. The trail’s familiarity gave him time to ponder not so much the warning his friend had delivered as the deliverer herself. Aliah Starbough. A creature of the woods if ever there was one, but one who ultimately had wanted to experience more than her own little corner of the world. She’d left the Simmaron even before Jerrick had. He hadn’t seen her since, and so didn’t know when she’d come back to the woods. Jerrick himself hadn’t been back for just over four years now. Like Aliah, he’d sought something more, but returned now because that life was no more.

As if to remind him of what might have been, Ash popped out from the brush ahead. Tongue lolling, the dog sat and waited. The look he gave as Jerrick approached suggested a singular desire: food. The sun was rising now, and Jerrick supposed it was as good a time as any to break his fast. He found a fallen log to sit on and ate in silence, tossing Ash his share of their jerky. Jerrick hadn’t packed for two, but the dog had insisted on following him. He didn’t know why. Ash didn’t like him. Jerrick’s introduction years ago had reordered the hierarchy. Most dogs adapted to such change. Not Ash. The dog’s loyalty belonged to the one and only person who had raised him from a pup. No one could replace her. Ash would never understand how much Jerrick agreed with him.

As soon as Jerrick began stowing the rest of the food, Ash stood, bounded down the trail, and disappeared from view again. Jerrick followed at his own pace. Only when the trail grew steeper and more rugged did Ash reappear, choosing then to stay in view as he blazed the way more slowly. With evening drawing near and the mountain’s cold already touching them, Jerrick stopped and made a patroller’s camp: a small cooking fire, with a bedroll laid out beside it. A comfortless arrangement for most, he found its simple efficiency settling. He tried not to think of the green mist and Aliah’s plea as he warmed a meal of porridge sweetened with sugar. He shared more jerky and let Ash eat the remainder of the porridge. The dog licked the pot clean, leaving Jerrick to scrub it properly. Jerrick had already put on fur leggings, a deerskin undercoat, and a jacket to help stave off the growing chill. The mountains were cold at the best of times, so he’d sleep dressed as he was now for the next several nights. Sleep came, but only fitfully. Morning began with a quick meal, then they got moving again.

Evergreens were thick until they surmounted the tree line. What remained was a barren landscape moving ever upward to the great, snowy peaks of the Ugulls. They stayed below the worst of the snow and ice by making their way between the peaks. That night, they found shelter in a low spot nestled among a jumble of boulders, either exposed by wind or brought here by an old landslide. With no wood for a fire, they ate a cold meal and went to sleep immediately. Ash remained in camp, sleeping close for warmth, Jerrick figured, more than anything else. They started early the next morning, nearly reaching the trail’s highest point by nightfall. Knowing better refuge lay ahead, Jerrick pushed them on a little farther, until Eagle’s Nest came into view.

Eagle’s Nest was a place of old. Soldiers and patrollers alike had once stood at the crenelated top of Eagle’s Tower, as it was then called, watching in all directions for the goblins and gorgons that once infested this part of the mountains. That duty, if it had ever been truly needed, was no more, as was the Eagle’s Tower of the past. Now, only the roofless structure’s uneven stone walls remained, and leading up to them, the chipped and cracked remains of a staircase carved from the very rock. Eagle’s Nest now served only as a wayfarer’s station, a bivouac for travelers seeking temporary respite from the wind and the mountain cold. Most of the time, the ruins were empty. Few traveled the trail over the Ugulls, fewer still this late in the year. Another month, and with the first snowfall, the trail would become impassable. So, to his surprise, Jerrick smelled smoke from a fire. No light greeted them from behind the walls of the ruins as they closed the distance, but now the smoke rose lazily and plainly. Eagle’s Nest already had one visitor this night.

“Hello, there!” Jerrick called out.

It was customary—and good sense—to announce one’s presence in such circumstances. Merchants, missionaries, or the occasional patroller used this way most often. Given the present lack of wagons and pack animals, Jerrick ruled out the first. The second, perhaps. The third... no reason to get his hopes up.

No one had replied, so Jerrick called out a second time. He waited a few more seconds, and when he still heard nothing, he decided to mount the stairs and try once more. Ash went ahead. Once, the stairs must have led to a sturdy door. Now, only a dark opening remained. Jerrick was about to call out a third time, but, slightly annoyed, he wondered if he ought to step forward and throw caution and courtesy to the wind. Ash made the decision moot. One moment the dog paused before the entrance. The next, he disappeared from view. Jerrick swore under his breath. There being nothing else to do, he went in after him.

Inside, the expected fire burned at the center of the circular room. A man wrapped in a dark cloak knelt on one knee, facing the flames. Busy warming his hands, he seemed at first to notice neither Jerrick nor Ash, who stood halfway between Jerrick and the stranger. But then the man’s head turned ever so slightly, and the fire’s light revealed skin neither black nor white, its exact color indeterminate from his silhouette alone. The stranger spoke in a welcoming tone. “Ah, other travelers walking the weary road. Please join me at the fire and warm yourselves.”

Jerrick kept his distance. He saw no sign of weapons, though the stranger’s cloak might conceal any number. Jerrick figured the man had to be alone, since the room offered nowhere else to hide. That, and he saw only one leather pack and a gnarled walking stick propped up against the wall. Hanging from the stick was a trio of conies, ready for skinning.

“Are you alone?” Jerrick asked. Despite the signs, it seemed worth confirming.

The man’s hands stopped their motion. “Hmm? Why, yes. I am alone.”

Ash glided forward, his attention fixed more on the rabbits than the stranger.

“Perhaps you should stand and turn around. Slowly.”

“Hmm...? Oh, yes. Never can be too trusting, after all. Very well.” The man rose and turned, empty hands extended away from his body.

The man was plainly an eslar, a people who dwelt far beyond Alchester to the east and who rarely trafficked beyond their own borders. Jerrick had seen their kind only a handful of times, when their merchants ventured to the Hall to trade goods and forest knowledge. This one was much like the others, with blue-black skin and short, russet-colored hair. He had a hawkish look to his face, a nose that tapered at the end, and, most unusual of eslar traits, eyes stark white and devoid of color. Those eyes were unreadable, but the tilt of his head and the beginnings of a smile on his dark lips suggested something between curiosity and amusement. Clad in worn leather breeches, high boots like Jerrick’s, and a cuffed white shirt beneath a fur-lined leather vest, he stood taller than Jerrick, but his posture seemed to favor one leg over the other. Metal bracers covered his forearms, and his traveling cloak—dark blue and much too thin to provide adequate warmth at their current elevation—shimmered in the light of the fire like no other material Jerrick had ever seen. At his belt hung a short sword and dagger, both resting in jeweled sheaths. Though his age was indeterminate, the eslar’s demeanor suggested he had left the callowness of youth behind long ago.

Ash, still focused on the conies, now looked at the stranger. The eslar held out his hand, a gesture Ash accepted as he padded in to sniff. The hand wasn’t enough. Ash took his leisure, sniffing boots, legs, and crotch. Jerrick admonished him for the last. The eslar remained unperturbed, letting out a short burst of laughter once Ash finished his inspection.

“We’re a long way from Panthora,” Jerrick said. “What business brings you to Eagle’s Nest?” Once, demanding such answers was well within his rights. Now, he supposed patroller instincts died hard.

The eslar lowered his arms. “Is that what this place is called? Eagle’s Nest? How intriguing.” Still facing Jerrick, he looked about, taking in the high, empty walls as if constructing in his mind what the tower must have looked like in its former glory. Finally, he answered Jerrick’s question. “I am but a simple traveler, come through these mountains on my way to the Simmaron Woods to the east. My final destination is a place called the Hall of the Wood. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” The eslar did not wait for an answer. “I came across these ruins and, as it was getting dark, thought it a good place to stop for the night.”

The answer satisfied Jerrick and Ash, who took it upon himself to lie down by the fire.

“My name is Murik Alon Rin’kres, of Isia.”

Jerrick stepped forward to clasp the eslar’s outstretched hand. “Jerrick Bur, of Rell.”

“Rell... I’m afraid I’ve not heard of it. And your dog?”

“His name is Ash. But he’s not mine.”

Murik moved back to the fire, knelt beside Ash, and rubbed his side in long, even strokes. Ash closed his eyes in ecstasy. “He is a beautiful animal, though a tad dirty. Not yours, you say? Is there someone else with you?”

“No. I meant only that Ash has a mind of his own. He calls no one ‘master.’” Once he had, but not since... Jerrick left the thought unfinished. “Accept my apologies for the reception.”

Murik waved a hand in dismissal, then gestured toward the modest blaze. “Please.”

Jerrick moved closer to the fire, readily absorbing its warmth.

“I was about to indulge in a small repast. You and Ash are welcome to join me.” Murik gestured toward the conies. “Though I fear the meal may prove rather meager.”

Jerrick removed his pack, set it and his bow against the wall, and moved to inspect the rabbits. All three were of good size. “These will do just fine. Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“One rabbit each, then. I have bread and some vegetables in my pack.”

Murik looked confused for a moment. “Yes, of course! One rabbit each. I’m afraid I forgot about Ash here.”

At the sound of his name, the dog plopped himself into Murik’s lap.

“He certainly is friendly,” Murik said, “though I had my doubts when I first saw him. He’s quite big.”

“He’s friendly enough,” Jerrick said, “especially when he knows there’s food coming.”

They said nothing more as Jerrick saw to skinning the rabbits. While Murik kept the fire up, Ash licked his chops in anticipation. With the rabbits cooked, Jerrick retrieved the promised loaf of bread and what remained of his stock of carrots and turnips from his pack, and they ate. Ash tore into his meal, gobbling it down in minutes. Jerrick and Murik took their time, savoring each greasy bite.

While they ate, a biting wind kicked up, creating a persistent howl that swept over and around Eagle’s Nest. The ruined tower sheltered the trio well enough, but a harsh chill still embraced them, and they took turns keeping the fire up. With their bellies full, the two men settled into an easy silence. Ash had already dozed off near the fire. Every once in a while, one of his legs jerked out, or he whined softly before falling quiet again. Murik showed a genuine interest in the history of Eagle’s Nest, so Jerrick related what little he knew of its former glory as a scout post. Eventually, the conversation died away and the two bid each other good night. Jerrick, his sword and knife close, lay listening to Murik’s soft breathing as thoughts of Aliah filtered through his mind.

They’re all dead.

Jerrick stayed awake for a long time, thinking about the words and the fearful expression of the woman who had spoken them.

The Hall wasn’t far now.

Soon enough, he’d have an answer.

Read Chapter Two.

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