by Hal Emerson
“He was near the Capitol, but he’s fleeing the city,” Raven said, feeling the life fading, moving away. “What was he doing here? There’s no one with him, no army, nothing!”
“Which way did they go?” Davydd asked, coming up behind him, apparently guessing that there had been intruders.
Raven pointed, and Davydd and Lorna sprang into action, running through the street, calling for men and horses to follow them.
“You said he was at the Council chambers?” Leah asked quickly.
“Yes,” Raven replied immediately.
They moved together, not needing to say anything more. Leah took the lead as they sprinted through stunned Kindred; they passed down a side street as the bells tolled ominously, sounding closer and closer, so loud now that Raven felt a ringing pulse inside his body with each clang.
They burst out onto the main boulevard that ran straight through the city and dashed toward the Council building, it’s huge dome only half-visible in the light of moon and stars as the bell inside continued its insistent cry. The world seemed darker now. Why?
Raven looked up and saw that clouds had begun to cover the sky, moving fast. They were black, the deep color that belied snow and storm.
They arrived at the Council building and took the steps leading to the huge entrance doors two at a time – and found them open. They ran inside; there was fire burning on the ground to their right; a hand-held oil lamp had fallen, and the contents had spilled onto the floor where they were burning bright, lending temporary light and heat.
And next to the spilled lamp, lying sprawled on the floor in a growing pool of blood, was Elder Goldwyn.
“NO!”
The scream tore from Leah’s throat, loud and helpless, and Raven felt shock pulse through his body, lighting his limbs on fire. She ran to her father and cradled him in her arms as he tried to breath, the noises sounding feeble and weak. There were several long stab wounds in his chest where the fabric of his shirt had been ripped, and each gapping wound yawned like a dumb mouth, gasping and drooling blood.
Raven turned and roared for the guards who were nowhere to be seen. He felt a chill go down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold – the guards had abandoned their posts.
Ishmael never found the last of the Seekers.
He ran down the steps, leaving Leah and Goldwyn behind, searching frantically for someone, anyone, who could deliver a message. People were running down the street toward him, coming from the festival.
“GOLDWYN’S BEEN ATTACKED – GET ELDER KERI!”
His voice roared out of him the way Rikard had taught, halting the Kindred in their tracks; they turned and ran back the way they’d come, splitting up immediately, passing the word with shouts and cries, searching for help. Raven turned and ran back inside, trying to think of a way to help the man, but his mind was a blank; how could this be happening?
“Father, what happened?” Leah was asking when he returned; she was trying to keep her voice calm, but there was an edge of panic she couldn’t conceal.
“I believe I was stabbed,” Goldwyn said, the words choppy, punctuated by heavy wheezing.
“You’ll be fine,” Leah said. “We’ll send for help. How are you feeling?”
“Oh,” he said politely, his rich voice now barely more than a whisper, “well thank you for asking.”
He paused as if to consider the question, and then smiled his wonderful, calm smile, and tenderly touched her face.
“Well … I’m dying. But then again, so are you.”
“Don’t give me any of that shadow-cured nonsense!”
Raven jumped back, shocked by the wail of sound. Leah’s face was terrible – the look of a vengeful god crossed with that of an orphaned child.
Someone came in behind them – a woman with the informal garb of an Eshendai, accompanied by a short, stout man, likely her Ashandel.
“What’s happened? Who’s been attacked?” She asked Raven. Leah leapt up, leaving her father behind, and grabbed the woman by the throat.
“Get Elder Keri, bring her here immediately, my father needs help!”
She released the woman and both she and her Ashandel fled the chamber with looks of horror and disbelief in their wide, staring eyes.
“Hush now daughter,” Goldwyn said, his strong voice, always so full of laughter, now thin and shrill, like the call of wind through winter streets. “You are smart enough to know that nothing can be done. It is my time.”
“No! You will not die!”
Raven found himself standing several paces back, one hand balled into a fist in his stomach, the other seizing a handful of his own hair, as if by grabbing hold of something, anything real, he could wake himself from this nightmare and deny the evidence of his own eyes.
“I have told you for a long time this day would come,” Goldwyn said, his eyes smiling kindly. The pool of blood on the floor below him continued to grow as the life fell from his body with a soft, steady staccato: drip, drip, drip. Raven heard Leah’s ragged breath rasping in and out of her chest in harsh counterpoint, forming a terrible melody that rang with desperate, building finality.
“You can save him,” said Leah suddenly, looking up at Raven. In a flash he understood what she meant – if he used Aemon’s Blade, and borrowed Tomaz’s strength, he might be able to keep the man alive. The Blade he’d decided to leave in the cabin today.
His hand fell to his side, but there was nothing there.
You left it in the cabin.
“I need Tomaz – and the Blade,” said Raven.
“Take the memories now,” she said, unsheathing her dagger, pressing it into his hand as he approached, his legs jerking and shaking as he walked. He reached out through the Raven Talisman and knelt next to Goldwyn, raising the dagger high. He felt the man’s life, felt it’s calm, protective force –
“Wait,” he said suddenly. “No, he’s bound to the sambolin. There’s Bloodmagic here, I don’t know if it will work –”
“DO IT ANYWAY!”
“LEAH!”
She was staring at him with wide eyes, only barely holding on to sanity, but his shout made her focus, brought her back from the edge.
“It won’t work like that,” he said quickly. “He’s an Elder, he’s bound by magic that my Talisman cannot touch without great effort. I’ll need all the strength Tomaz can lend me to pull the memories from him and heal his body, I won’t be able to do a damn thing otherwise. If I leave now for the Blade –”
“No!” She said, already heading for the door, “I know the backstreets – stay here and keep him alive!”
And then she was gone, and the chamber was quiet, and dark, the oil having burnt itself out. Raven was afraid, and that fear held him by the throat, paralyzing him.
“The Prince,” said Elder Goldwyn suddenly. He shifted and coughed; Raven could hear blood in his lungs, and knew the end was close. “Where is the Prince of Ravens? I must speak to him.”
Raven knelt and pulled the man upright, holding his teacher in his arms.
“I am here,” he breathed.
A hand lashed out and grabbed his collar, pulling him close.
“We never finished our conversation,” Goldwyn said, so low that Raven could barely hear it.
“Elder, please,” Raven said, “save your strength. Leah has gone to get Aemon’s Blade, we can still save you, I’ve done it before and I know how to make it work now, I can –”
“You told me that you believe we have no choice,” Goldwyn whispered into his ear, breaking him off. “But there is one example that proves you wrong. I must … must make you see….”
The dying Elder pierced him with his gray eyes, the color of light coming from behind the clouds, shining bright even at the moment of his death.
“Change yourself, and you can change the world. Devote yourself to it, heart and mind, tell yourself that in every facet of your being you will be the man you want to be, you will be the Prince that this land needs, and you will be him
. Tell yourself the why of your existence, and then tell the Kindred. Tell them what you believe, and you will change it, you will change everything. You will open the world and change the fate of us all.”
The hand holding onto his collar lost its strength, and Raven felt the man fall away from him, sinking back to the floor.
“You say we cannot change things,” Goldwyn continued, quieter, as Raven tried to hold him up, “but you can change them. You are the stone thrown into the pond. You can open the circle, you can change the rules. Create a new path; create a new freedom; create a new why.”
The eyes began to go dark, the light ascending behind the eyelids, quiet and simple.
“Oh,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And tell … my daughter … not to grieve my death, but to celebrate my life. I gave it to the Kindred … and I have no regrets. Help her through the time to come … she will need you.”
Raven watched as the old man’s lips pulled back in a smile.
“I go beyond the Veil. I will see you when you wake.”
And then death came and took the life of Elder Goldwyn. The spark in his deep gray eyes, the knowing laughter, the simple joy, all faded, leaving behind nothing more than a body where once a great soul had housed.
Raven felt Leah more than saw or heard her as she reentered the room. The world was small and flat around him, as if something great, something of meaning and import, had been cruelly forced out of it. He turned to Leah and saw her standing flanked by Elders Ekman and Keri, the hulking form of Tomaz looming in the doorway holding Aemon’s Blade. They looked at him, and he could only stare numbly back – Goldwyn was gone, and with him had faded the memories that Raven could have used to save him. They were too late.
Rage boiled up inside him then, deep and overpowering. Another one of the Children had invaded his home, another one of them had come and taken someone that he cared about, and this time he hadn’t been able to save him. This time there was no lucky, happy ending.
He reached through the Raven Talisman and sent his mind flying outward, bursting from the room and encompassing the surrounding area, brushing against the lives of thousands of Kindred, searching for the bright gold light of the Fox.
There – heading north, leaving Vale, making for the Pass of Roarke.
His eyes flew open, his gaze met Leah’s, and in that moment neither needed words. She turned to go, and Raven turned to Tomaz.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said to the big man. Tomaz, still stupefied from drink, could only look numbly down at Raven, eyes unfocused, vision clouded with shock and disbelief.
“I need you to give me your strength,” Raven said as he laid a hand on the Blade, “through this. The way you did in the mountains when the Death Watchmen attacked.”
Tomaz wasn’t hearing him though – Goldwyn’s death had shocked the big man so badly his normal composure had cracked. Raven stepped closer and only just stopped himself from slapping him.
“Tomaz!”
The word cracked out of his mouth like a whip, and the big man’s eyes finally focused on Raven.
“I need you to reach through the Ox,” he said, as slow as he dared, feeling like every wasted second was a missed chance to catch his brother – to grab him and tear him apart! – but knowing it would be useless unless Tomaz understood. “Reach through the Talisman, call on the strength you have, and send it through the Blade to me.”
“We’ve never tried it,” said Tomaz, still having trouble focusing.
“We don’t have time Tomaz!” The words were bare sounds, hissing from him – he felt Leah’s life moving away, already giving chase. He needed to be with her! He wouldn’t lose her too!
“Reach through the Talisman and give me the strength!”
Others were now looking at them, and the air in the room felt deadly and crooked, like a twisted knife.
Tomaz took a steadying breath and closed his eyes.
In a flash, red light lit the room, boiling out from beneath the giant’s black clothing like molten earth, searing the eyes of those nearby, making them cry out in pain and alarm.
“SEND IT THROUGH THE BLADE TOMAZ!”
Tomaz’s eyes opened and gave him one last frightened look, and then he let go of the breath he’d taken in, and the glaring red light disappeared.
There was a moment of confusion where everyone looked up wonderingly in the sudden darkness, and then the red light reemerged, shining like a sun, as Tomaz unsheathed Aemon’s Blade and held it in his hands.
Raven felt his entire body surge with strength, limbs flooded with power. He locked eyes with Tomaz; the giant’s face was stark and grim, every hard plane standing out sharp and bright in the light of the Blade. Here stood a primordial god, seeking death and destruction, moved only by rage and revenge.
“Kill him,” the giant growled.
Raven’s hatred rose up in him again, and he gave it free rein. He was off and out the main door of the room before he knew it – racing down the street, knocking over Kindred left and right. There was a bellow of rage, and he heard Tomaz come out after them and roar into the night sky, sending him racing even faster, chasing the life sign of his brother, the veins on his body pulsing with a faint red light as the strength flowed through him from the sword in Tomaz’s hands.
Leah had a head start on him, but with the strength he’d been given by Tomaz, he quickly found her; she was astride a horse, racing through the city to the north, going nearly as fast as Raven was. They were on the outskirts of Vale now, and the streets were nearly deserted. The sound of his boots and the hooves of Leah’s horse were lost in the cry of a howling wind that sprang up from nowhere; it pushed them on, hastening them to speed, as if the very lands of the Kindred were urging them toward revenge.
The horse was good – she would be able to stay with him much better this way. He came up beside her just as they had reached the edge of the city.
“Follow me! He isn’t far now – but he’s heading north! Whatever I do, follow me! He’s the Fox – he has luck on his side!”
She nodded once, eyes full of pain and anguish, and the sight of that nearly broke him, but he forced himself to go on, forced his body to move.
They flew through the dark night. Snow began to fall from the black clouds above, light and feathery, blown about them in heady swirls and strange shifting silhouettes that would have had any other tracker lost and dazed in a matter of seconds.
But Raven flew through the night unhindered. The light of his brother was bright and strong in his mind; the Fox was far ahead of them, almost out of reach, but they were gaining.
An hour passed that way; Raven and Leah, rage driving them, both barely able to see but for what bare sliver of light was left from the hidden moon and stars. They were racing north now along a long road … a road that Raven shouldn’t have been able to see.
And that’s when he realized the true extent of the loss the Kindred had suffered. That’s when he realized what had been missing from Elder Goldwyn’s body, what he hadn’t felt when he’d held the Elder to him as he died.
Tiffenal had stolen the Elder’s sambolin.
And now, as they ran through a field of swaying wheat that had been abandoned long ago and left to run wild, Raven realized that the illusions were gone, and the final defense of the Kindred was shattered.
“NO!” He roared and redoubled his speed; he would bring back the dagger if he had to rip it from his brother’s lifeless hands.
He didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he drew deeper on the strength Tomaz had lent him, pulling more from the man who was many miles distant now, pulling so much that he began to outdistance Leah on her charger, though she was whipping the poor creature bloody.
And then they were at the foot of the mountains, and Raven stopped.
Leah blew past him on her horse, but then pulled up in a flurry of snow and turned back to him.
“Where is he?” She yelled over the whipping wind and the slash
ing snow. She had lit a torch to help them see, but it was dying, and Raven knew that it would soon go out and they would be left in the middle of a mounting blizzard in near total darkness. But he didn’t care, not now; all that mattered was Tiffenal.
“He went this way,” he said, motioning away from the road that led to the main pass, toward a second road, old and disused, that led into a deep forest and directly to a barren mountainside.
“Is he trying to lead us into a trap?” She asked.
“He’s the Fox,” said Raven grimly, “of course he is. But this is the way he went.”
“No!” She called over the mounting wind. “He has to make for the Pass eventually – that’s the only way in or out of these lands!”
