The Wyrmling Horde

Things moved quickly for Talon after her match with the emir. The endowment ceremonies took only an hour. The facilitators had put the finishing touches on a few forcibles during the march, carefully filing the runes upon the heads of each. Thus Talon and the Emir Tuul Ra were ready to garner their first attributes-one endowment each of brawn, grace, metabolism, stamina, sight, smell, and hearing.

The ceremony took place in a small chamber away from the public, where only a few potential Dedicates and their families could sit at once. The air smelled fresh here, for a crack in the high stone roof let Talon see up a natural chimney to where the stars shone. The stream that had fallen into limpid pools in the great room earlier now flowed into this room, becoming a burbling brook. There was no furniture here, only rocks to sit upon and some rafts of moss to lie upon.

Daylan Hammer presided over the ceremony, with Lord Erringale standing tall at his side in raiment that shimmered like sunlight upon green leaves. Each of them inspected the forcibles before the rite proceeded, Erringale frowning at the forcibles for a long moment.

"You taught the shadow folk well," he said to Daylan, with an undertone of subdued anger, "though you were sworn to secrecy."

"The Runelords of that world discovered most of the lore themselves," Daylan said. "I gave them a little help, mainly to stop the horrifying experiments that they were performing."

Talon wondered at this news. The discovery of rune lore was lost in history. She had not suspected that the technology was first a product of the netherworld, or that it was meant to be hidden from them.

"It was not well done," Erringale said. "There are no more true Ael anymore, not since the shattering. The power to grant proper endowments has been lost. There can be no more Ael."

"It is true that the rune lore does not work as it once did," Daylan said, "and the Runelords are seldom as honorable as our Ael once were. But overall, the good that has been done has outweighed the bad."

Erringale said no more.

The Cormar twins were first to take attributes. They had already been granted dozens of endowments before the fall of Caer Luciare, but now they asked an honor that Daylan Hammer was loath to give.

"We wish to twin our mind," one of them said. Errant, Talon thought it was, though she could never be certain, for the two looked so much alike. "Thull-turock has said that among the ancient Runelords, this was sometimes done."

"Sometimes it works," Daylan said, "but more often it leads to grief. I would advise you against it."

"But you will not stop us?" Tun asked. Or at least she thought it was Tun. Her father once said that Tun was a hair taller, and a bit more reckless. Talon could not tell them apart, either by voice or by appearance.

"I don t have the authority to stop you," Daylan said. "I am not your king, nor your lord. As I see it, no man is. I suggest that instead of asking me, you put it to your comrades, as representatives of all your people. They are the ones who will be most affected, if this fails."

So the Cormars stood before Talon and the Emir and offered their argument.

"By twinning our minds, Errant and I will be able to read one another s thoughts, to fight as a perfect team-two men, four arms, but only one heart. And if it works," Tun said, "it will be a great benefit. I will always know what my brother is thinking, what he sees and hears."

"Yes, and if it doesn t work," Daylan said, "it will lead to madness and a loss of self-control."

The emir studied the men, looked to Talon for her thoughts. "You re the one with experience in such matters," he said. "I know nothing of Runelords and their strategies."

"I know a little about it," Talon offered. "In ancient times, it was sometimes done. There were some great fighters, the Sons of Wonder, who did this. Most often, it was done with men who were raised as twins, who often sparred with one another, and so were already intimately familiar with each other."

"And what factors lead to madness?" the emir asked.

"Selfishness," Talon said. "Twinning works best with those who love one another truly, who share no secrets from each other."

The emir thought for a long moment. Errant Cormar urged, "We are going up against the combined might of the wyrmling horde. We are going to fight wyrmling lords and Knights Eternal with endowments of their own-how many we cannot know. And the Death Lords will be there, led by their emperor. We need every advantage."

Obviously, the Cormars were concerned. The emperor s troops loomed large in their imaginations. In their world the wyrmlings were seen as unbeatable. But Talon had lived in both worlds. As a Runelord she knew what kind of damage a single highly endowed assassin might do. History could show dozens of instances where entire kingdoms fell within moments as Dedicates were brought low.

After a long moment the emir sighed. "I would advise against it. This is a new art to me, and by nature I mistrust it. Yet so much depends upon us. The world depends upon us to succeed, to bring Areth Sul Urstone and the Wizard Fallion home. I cannot advise you yea or nay."

"I think it is well worth the gamble," Thull-turock said.

But of course you would say so, Talon thought. You re a facilitator, and if you succeed in this, it will greatly add to your reputation.

She didn t dare voice her thoughts. Talon worried that they were too small-minded.

And so, leaning upon their own counsel, the Cormar twins granted one another an endowment of wit. It was a ceremony that offered little in the way of danger. For one moment after surrendering his wit, Errant Cormar became a gibbering idiot. But then his brother granted an endowment in return, and then both men looked normal.

They did not begin twitching and shrieking, as it was said sometimes happened when two men fought for control of their joint mind.

Yet it was obvious to Talon that they were in turmoil, for they stood for a long moment, both of them gazing off reflectively as their eyes darted this way and that.

They re sifting through one another s memories, Talon realized, learning the things that they thought no one would ever know about them-their most secret memories, their hopes and fears.

Daylan saw it, too, and said, "Gentlemen, come with me for a moment. We need to talk of supplies, and strategies. I would like your ideas on how to proceed…" And he led them from the chamber.

He s trying to distract them, and focus them, Talon realized. And suddenly it was her turn to take endowments.

There were few surprises for Talon in the ceremony. As a child, she had seen the white scars left by the branding irons upon her mother and father, and with wide eyes had asked about the rites. "What does this one stand for, Mother?" she had asked, looking down at the squiggly lines inscribed within a circle.

It was no design that could be easily described. All runes seemed to have a look of rightness to them, as if in form alone they held some power, but you couldn t tell what that power was just by looking at the rune.

"That one stands for hearing," Myrrima had answered.

"Who gave you their hearing?"

"I got one from a dog," Myrrima had answered, "a special little yellow dog, bred to give hearing to Runelords."

"Did it hurt?"

And Myrrima had told her, "It s a terrible thing to take an endowment. It didn t hurt me at all-or if it did hurt, it hurt because it felt so good. There is a point where pleasure can be so great, it feels almost as if it will take your life. I ve seen Runelords swoon from the pleasure when they take an endowment."

"I wish I felt that good," Talon had said.

"Ah, but it hurts the giver. The dog that gave me his endowment, he yelped and yelped in pain and would not stop for half an hour. Tears came to his eyes, and he ran away from his master who had been holding him during the endowment ceremony. The dog felt bewildered and betrayed."

"But did you hear better afterward?"

"I heard surprisingly well," her mother had answered. "I could hear the high-pitched squeaks of bats at night so loudly that sometimes it would keep me awake if I tried to sleep. If I lay down on the ground, I could hear mice burrowing beneath the grass, and the baby mice squeaking as they cried for their mother s teats. Then of course, there was always your father. I could hear his stomach gurgling and churning from his evening meal, and if he began to snore-well, I could forget all about sleep!"

Her parents had seemed almost… disfigured to her. Masses of white scars covered her father s chest and arms. Sir Borenson had always pretended that he could not remember where most of them came from. He d been only sixteen when he took his first endowments, and over the years he claimed that his memories had faded.

When questioned, he would act befuddled, and then find some excuse to walk off.

Talon had thought that he was hiding something until her mother explained, "Your father took endowments of wit when he was young, so that he could learn to fight more quickly. But when his Dedicates were slain, the men from whom he had taken wit had died, and your father forgot a great deal. Imagine for a moment that you took four endowments of wit, and studied hard for several years; then one day someone stole four-fifths of all that you had learned. That s the way it is with your father.

"It s not that he is embarrassed to talk about it, I think. But it hurts him to admit how much he has lost, for you see, each Dedicate who died, your father took as a sign of his own failure.

"It is a Runelord s duty to protect his Dedicates. It s not important to do it just to make sure that you keep your endowments. It s a matter of honor. The people who give you your endowments, they re people just like you-with homes, and families, and hearts that break. You get to borrow their strength, or their vigor, or their beauty. And while you rejoice, they suffer terribly."

Talon s curiosity about her parents scars had never really waned. She d heard stories about them so often that in time the tales of the ceremonies seemed more like memories than history.

So she knew what to expect-the harking chants of the facilitators, the smell of charred hair and burning flesh, the glowing worms of light that came from the forcible as it was pulled away from the Dedicate s skin, the rush of ecstasy that came at the touch of the forcible to her own skin.

Talon took her endowments before the emir did. Many of those who had offered attributes were girls who had been friends when she was small. They had played games together, chasing blue-bellied lizards among the rocks along the hillside of Caer Luciare, planting flowers amid the vegetables in the garden, and studying at the creche school as toddlers.

Before the ceremony ever began, the facilitator Thull-turock took the potential Dedicates aside and asked if they understood what they were doing, if anyone had tried to coerce them into this agreement, and if they understood what they would be giving up.

He was pleased to see that so many of her friends came forward of their own volition, offering their attributes because they believed that it was right to do so.

And so for each endowment, one of her closest friends offered up an attribute.

It broke Talon s heart to see a young warrior give up his strength. His name was Crel-shek, and as a youth he had hoped to marry her, but Talon s father had forbidden it, claiming that he was of inferior breeding.

As she garnered attributes Talon grew stronger and suppler, inhumanly quick and filled with vigor. Alun brought his dogs, and she took endowments of scent and hearing from them, while an old man with uncommonly keen night vision gave his sight, and thus Talon sharpened her senses.

But all of my virtues are bought with blood, she realized, and suddenly she began to understand why her father had never wanted to speak of his past as a Runelord.

When she had taken her endowments, the emir finally was granted his. First came his daughter, Siyaddah, and he went to a corner and talked to her softly, saying his good-byes. Talon could not help but overhear. With her sharpened senses, even her own breathing seemed loud.

He spoke the words that any father might speak at such a moment, telling her of his love for her, his pride in her, his hopes for her future, for a life well lived and well loved.

But it was his final words that caught Talon s attention, for before he left, he whispered, "Sleep peacefully, my child. I borrow your speed for but a while. It shall not be long before you wake."

That s when Talon knew.

He plans to return his endowments to the givers, Talon realized.

But the only way that he could do that would be to give up his life.

He can t do it before the battle is won, Talon thought. He must make certain that the wyrmlings are defeated.

So he will die at his own hand thereafter.

It was a noble thing to do. Few were the Runelords in history that had undertaken such a feat.

But Talon knew of the emir s courage and determination. He was just the kind of man to do it.

The thought both thrilled and horrified her. It thrilled her to think that he was so noble of heart. It horrified her because it made her desire him more.

The emir s face was stoic as he began taking his endowments, and then it was time for Talon to go.

She went first to her mother, Gatunyea, and to her little brothers, and said her farewells. Then she gave her thanks to her Dedicates, and to those who would yet grant endowments to her through those Dedicates.

Talon went to get her pack, and sat quietly examining her clothes and her small stores of food, deciding which to take. Nearby sat Alun, who was quiet and sullen. He hunched over his dogs, caring for them from long habit. Now a young girl knelt beside him, his new apprentice.

I should go and thank him, too, Talon decided. He loves his dogs as if they were his own children.

The camp was settled for the night, and in a far room someone was singing, filling the chamber with sweet sound. Nearby, the water lapped on the shore of the underground pool.

Two of Alun s dogs cowered close. These were the ones that had given hearing and scent. They peered up at him with sad eyes, as if stricken and betrayed. After all of their love and service, he had done this.

Other dogs-Wanderlust and some of the old ones-hovered nearby.

Alun sat there petting the dogs. He hadn t liked taking their endowments. Each time an attribute had passed into Talon, the dog that gave it had yelped in pain, then floundered to the ground or crawled off, alternately yelping and whining. They could not understand how deeply Talon needed their gifts, or how grateful she felt. But now Alun sat petting them, and the dogs licked his hands, as if to tell him that all was forgiven between them.

There was movement nearby. Talon ignored it, thinking that someone must just be going to relieve themselves in the night.

"Back with the mutts?" Connor Madoc asked, slipping up behind Alun.

Talon turned to see Connor and Drewish hovering above Alun, leering down.

"Just putting them to sleep," Alun said, "for the night."

"Those should have been mine," Connor said, nodding at the dogs. "We had an agreement." He leaned close, threateningly. Talon could not help but notice that Drewish had his hand on the pommel of his dagger.

"I, I m sorry," Alun said. "I, I got so nervous!"

Talon did not hesitate.

She leapt up, rushed five paces, grabbed Connor by the collar of his shirt with one hand, by the belt with the other, and then hurled Connor as far as she could out into the pond.

He only went ten feet, but she was gratified to see how far Connor flew.

Drewish did not have time to react. Talon s endowment of metabolism saw to it that before Drewish could draw his dagger, he went hurtling, as if intent on catching his brother in midair.

Both of them landed with a splash, and from a few yards off came heavy clapping.

"I m glad to see you putting those endowments to good use," Daylan Hammer said. "I daresay that those two can use the bath."

"Aye," Talon agreed. "But there is a kind of filth in them that water cannot remove."

The Madocs peered up at Talon, then at Daylan Hammer, and went slogging off without another word.

Daylan came close to the dogs, knelt next to Alun, and patted Wanderlust, smoothing out the grizzled hairs on her snout. "Do not use this dog for endowments," he said. "She s too old. I fear that she would die from the transfer."

"I wasn t thinking about that," Alun said. "She s earned her retirement. I just want her to live to a ripe old age."

Daylan smiled. "Let us hope that that is a very long time indeed."

That dog might live longer than me, Talon thought, for I am going into the wyrmlings lair.

Even if she survived, Talon would be taking six endowments of metabolism from men and dogs, so that she might move swiftly. But in doing so, it was like taking poison. Her life would pass away as if it were a dream. A day to her would seem like seven, and if she should ever have a daughter, Talon would age and die before the girl ever grew old enough to bear her own children.

I will wither before my parents do, Talon realized.

Daylan said absently to Alun, "Our facilitators are taking a rest now, but when they have recovered, they will prepare more forcibles, and grant us more endowments."

"But, aren t you leaving sooner than that?" Alun asked.

"Yes, we re leaving, but our Dedicates are staying. They can take endowments for us now."

"How can they do that?" Alun asked.

"Imagine that a man gives you his strength. When he gives that endowment, his strength flows to you, like a stream of water flowing into a lake.

"Now, imagine that another man gives more strength to your Dedicate through another endowment. His stream of water flows into that man s flow, just as happens when the winter showers create new streams. What happens then?"

Alun s face crinkled up as he tried to envision it. "There is more water in the first stream?"

"Exactly. The strength does not pool in your Dedicate. Instead, the strength of both men flows to you.

"Thus, as Talon s Dedicates take endowments, and vector those attributes to her, she will gain their powers as the day progresses. From time to time, she may feel a surge of strength, or a rush of wholesomeness when stamina is added."

He turned to Talon. "Are you ready to go?" Daylan asked. "Have you said your good-byes?" His voice was sober. He knew that they might be going to their deaths.

"I ve spoken my farewells," Talon said. "Is the emir ready? The Cormar twins?"

"Give them a few minutes more," Daylan suggested.

Talon glanced across the chamber and saw the emir talking to some old battle companions. The Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale stood at his side, waiting for him to finish. At his back were the Cormar twins.

One of the twins was gazing off, deep in thought, when suddenly he burst out laughing. The emir turned to see what had caused the outburst, and the young man said, "Sorry, just thought of a joke."

Talon turned back to Daylan.

"Daylan," she asked softly. "I heard Lord Erringale say that you had been banished from this world. Why was that?"

Daylan smiled, considered how to answer. "Ages ago, there was a great danger on your world, the world of the Runelords. It was thousands of years ago. A young king had arisen, and his people were set upon by reavers. He begged for my help. His people were already studying rune lore, and they knew how to give one another blessings, by drawing runes upon their friends with their fingers. But it was a crude craft, barely understood, and those who gave the blessings failed far more often than not. Besides, such blessings fade quickly.

"So they begged for my help.

"I had only begun to suspect something back then. The Bright Ones call this world the One True World, and for countless ages the Bright Ones and Glories alike have thought that when the binding came, it would be upon this world, that it would be bound to some lesser world.

"You see, not all worlds are equal. Many of them are deeply flawed, and of all the worlds, this one reminds us most of what the world should be.

"But I had begun to suspect that looks can be deceiving. For rune magic worked on Fallion s world. In some cases, it worked better there than it does here. It was as if this True World of ours was only partly true, as if it had some fundamental flaws.

"Each of our worlds is like a puzzle with missing pieces, but no two worlds are missing the same pieces. This world, Fallion s world, the wyrmling s world-each seemed to contain something that the others had lost."

Talon asked "What powers were on the wyrmlings world that the others lacked?"

Daylan hesitated, as if he did not want to answer. "The dead were more alive there than upon other worlds. The barrier between the physical world and spirit world was thinner there. That is why they had the Death Lords and the Knights Eternal."

"So you were banished for teaching rune lore?"

Daylan nodded. "I brought my friends before the White Council, and I pleaded their cause.

"But the Bright Ones did not want to interfere. They knew the dangers of teaching such lore. They were afraid that evil men would take the rune lore and use it for selfish reasons. And they were right. Many evil men have been empowered by it. But the Bright Ones were afraid of something more: they were afraid that the lore might be spread from one shadow world to the next, a thousand times over, becoming a plague that runs through the universe."

"And has it?" Alun asked.

"No," Daylan said. "Men do not long to conquer worlds that they have not seen, or that they have never dreamed of."

Talon realized that Daylan was right. She d never seen any worlds but her own, had never imagined that there could be other fine worlds.

"Are there worlds that are not in peril?" Talon asked. "Fine places, I mean. Worlds where you might go just to rest from your cares?"

Daylan laughed, as if it were a naive question. "As I said the other night, there are more worlds than you can count, more than you can imagine. Some have life on them, and others are void. Some have people on them, not too different from you.

"But the worlds mirror each other. Somehow, even on worlds where one type of mold is struggling to dominate another, the great drama unfolds.

"No," Daylan laughed, "there is no fine place where you can really rest-unless, of course, we manage to bring peace to your world."

"And if we do, won t peace come to all of the worlds?"

"I suppose it will."

The emir, the Cormar twins, the Wizard Sisel, and Erringale were still saying their good-byes. Daylan glanced at them, got a sly look on his face, and whispered to Talon, "Come here."

He went to the back wall, and embedded in it were tiny stones like diamonds no larger than an infant s thumbnail. They glowed softly, so that from a distance they had looked like stars. It was these stones that lit all of the rooms, Talon realized.

Daylan said, "The folk of this world call these sunstones, for when left in the sun, they store its light. The beams then leach from the stones at night when darkness falls."

"They re pretty," Talon said. "A stone like that would be worth a man s weight in gold on our world."

Daylan pried a sunstone from the wall, cupped it in his hand so that the light would be hidden, then pinched it hard. The light flashed brightly.

"The harder you pinch, the brighter it flashes. Try it. The stone gets quite warm when you do. The sun s heat is stored in them, too."

He held the stone out for her, and Talon s fingers wrapped around it. She held it in her fist so that no one would see. She squeezed it briefly, felt it flare. It was like a tiny fire in her hand, leaking light so brightly that it glowed red through her fingers. She had to drop it.

Suddenly, understanding spread across her face.

"A flameweaver could make good use of these," Talon said.

"They are quite common here," Daylan whispered. "The Bright Ones mastered the craft of making them ages ago. I cannot explain the process fully, for it would take hours, but it requires only coal from the fire and sand, along with bits of shaved metals-zinc, silver, and others that your peoples have no names for. Then the ingredients are blended and crushed under great weight until the pieces fuse.

"Now, Erringale will not allow weapons from this world to be taken to yours. But if a few sunstones were to fall from the wall, he would not miss them…"

Talon saw the possibilities. "How would the wyrmlings have fared against us," Talon wondered aloud, "if we had borne sunstones into battle? Our whole world might have been saved."

"It might yet be saved," Daylan suggested.

"And Fallion will be able to make use of these. If I but pinch one

…"

"The stones are everywhere here in the sanctuary," Daylan said. "Look around, while I go speak to Erringale."

So he left Talon alone for a moment. She was not a thief. She would not have taken a man s purse no matter how much gold it held.

But she knew what Daylan wanted. Perhaps he feared that Erringale would have him searched before they left. Or perhaps taking the stones would violate one of his oaths. She knew full well that he was a man of high ideals-too high, sometimes.

Yet he had given knowledge to her people in times past, and now he was asking her to steal light and fire from the Bright Ones in this hour of need.

In a few moments, Talon had five sunstones hidden in her leather purse.

Then she heard Daylan call "Talon?" and it was time to go.

Erringale s people provided packs filled with food and flasks of warm beer, and then they were off.

The good folk of Luciare cheered them on their way as they raced up the steps of the tunnel, and exited out of the great tree, then stood there in its shadow.

Full night was upon them, and the storm had passed. Broken clouds sailed through the sky like the wreckage of ships upon a dusky sea. A moon larger and fuller than that on Talon s world gave copious light, but they did not set off through the fields, which were still wet with rain-slicked grass.

Instead Erringale raised a small stick and traced a pattern in the air, until suddenly a gust of wind blasted them all in the face, and they stood peering back into a duller world-a world of stunted grasses and twisted trees and air that somehow smelled fouler and more acrid than the air of the netherworld.

No wonder Erringale s people think so little of us, Talon realized. We are like poor cousins to them.

The Cormar twins rushed through, followed by Daylan, Talon, the emir, and finally the Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale himself.

They found themselves standing on a nasty plain thick with grass, tangled with weeds. The bitter scent of wild carrots filled the air, and the white tops of their flowers grew an arm s length away, rising almost to her chest.

Talon thought at first that the air smelled so badly because of her new endowments. But she noticed that the grass nearby looked more sere and dry than it had before, and the leaves on the trees were going brown.

The curse, she recalled-the wyrmling curse. Before the binding of the worlds, the wyrmling world had been all but free of plant life. Only the nastiest and most unwholesome still survived. But with the binding, entire forests had appeared, a blessing from Fallion s world.

Now those trees were dying, blasted by the wyrmling curse.

That is the cause of the smell, Talon thought. The good plants are dying, while the evil ones thrive and choke them out.

Though it had been full night in the netherworld, the sun here was nearly up, just breaking free of some golden clouds on the horizon. Yellow moths dipped and glided all around, and the air was filled with morning birdsong.

Good, Talon thought. The wyrmlings will be looking for places to hide for the day.

The company halted, peering around, trying to get their bearings.

"Over there," Sisel said, pointing just to the south. A low hill rose in that quarter, with stately elms spreading their branches wide. Just beyond them, Talon could see the gray stone tops of the fortress at Cantular.

"But our road lies that way," Daylan said, pointing east.

Talon had traveled this same highway only two days before, with Rhianna, Jaz, and Fallion, after High King Urstone had rescued them from the wyrmlings. So much had changed.

I m a different person altogether, she thought. She had taken endowments from men and dogs, and felt so much power coursing through her, so much health and energy yearning to break free, she almost imagined that she was like a young robin in its nest, yearning to escape and take flight.

The scents of dry grass and bitter weeds came so strongly it was as if she had never smelled before. The cheeping of birds, the bark of a distant squirrel, sounded so loud that it felt as if she d gone through her entire life straining to hear anything at all.

But she had taken endowments from more than dogs. She d taken them from half a dozen good men and women from the warrior clans.

She felt eager to run to Rugassa. But the Wizard Sisel and Lord Erringale would never be able to match the grueling pace that the others would set.

"It is time to part," Sisel said, as if reading her thoughts. "Erringale and I will go west, to commune with the One True Tree. But you must go north to rescue your friends. Any last words?"

"Be well," Daylan said. "May you find joy beneath the True Tree."

"There is little advice that I can give," Erringale told them. "I have fought enemies much like your wyrmlings for far too long. I have only one final word of advice. Free your friends, but do as little harm as possible. It is better that you die than that you put a stain upon your soul."

"I would gladly give my soul if in so doing I might free my friend," the emir said.

Erringale gave him a harsh look, as if to rebuke him, but thought better of it. "Our enemy is devious," he said. "Never trust such a trade. Let your conscience guide you."

Talon grunted as if in agreement, though she could hardly imagine how they would break free of Rugassa without letting flow a river of blood.

Erringale bade them farewell, placing his right hand upon Daylan Hammer s shoulder and then squeezing. He whispered, "You have ever been faithful to your vows as an Ael. By keeping them, you have kept your soul. Yet I fear for you now. The path before you is dark, and not even a sunstone can light your way."

Talon s heart fell, for she felt certain as she looked into Erringale s wise eyes that he knew that she and Daylan had conspired to steal the sunstones.

Then Erringale grasped the emir upon the shoulder and squeezed, and Erringale s eyes filled with light. For just a brief instant, there in the Bright One s eyes she beheld a vision; Talon saw the emir wrapped in flames. Erringale backed off in surprise. "Often upon your hunts for the wyrmlings have you walked crooked roads," he said softly, "but the road before you is glorious."

He grabbed the Cormar twins by the shoulder, holding each for a long second and peering into their eyes. At last he said, "Be well, my friends. Be well."

Last of all he took Talon by the shoulder and peered deep into her eyes for a moment, probing, as if to peer into her very heart. She saw only kindness in his eyes, and wisdom deep and profound. Erringale looked worn, as if he had been endlessly longing for peace.

He didn t see us steal the stones, Talon decided. He wasn t watching. It s just that now he sees through us.

"You go in search of a brother," Erringale whispered, "yet your heart is torn, for you fear for a father and mother, too. I see them. I see them. A white ship is setting sail from a distant shore."

The words were totally unexpected, and they brought tears to Talon s eyes. She leapt forward and hugged Lord Erringale out of pure joy, then pulled back, embarrassed, for she did not know whether it was appropriate to treat a lord of his world so.

Then she hugged the Wizard Sisel, and the two lords said, "Farewell," and took off to the west, the Wizard Sisel striding through the bitter grasses with his staff swinging in long arcs while Lord Erringale marched grimly at his side, as if the entire world before him was repugnant.

Daylan Hammer, invigorated by endowments of his own, said, "Let us be off!"

He leapt away, and soon a race was on, with the Cormar twins taking the lead while Talon, the emir, and Daylan Hammer followed close on their trail.

Talon loped along easily. She was bred to the warrior clans, and as such, it was expected that she be able to run eight miles in an hour, a hundred miles in a day.

Now, with her endowment of metabolism, she could run twice that pace with ease. And with endowments of strength and stamina, even while running she did not weary.

The landscape was much as it had been two days before. This was a desolate land. Farmsteads huddled here and there, spread out across the wilds-places where the small folk had lived before the binding of the worlds. But the cottages had been knocked down by wyrmling troops, their roofs thrown off and the inhabitants taken.

The sight saddened Talon.

After five miles, they stopped to kneel at a stream and drink, for even a Runelord needs food and water.

"Milords," the emir asked, "does anyone here have a plan for how we might break into the fortress at Rugassa without taking a few thousand lives?" Away from the prying ears of the Bright Ones, he apparently felt free to broach the dilemma for the first time.

Daylan suggested, "We will enter by stealth, if we can. The wyrmling stronghold was not made to defend against Runelords. I suspect that we can find a way in, either by climbing walls or leaping over them. By day the wyrmlings sleep, and if we go in the middle of the day we may get far without being noticed."

"There is no night and day in Rugassa," the emir argued. "In its depths there is only endless darkness. I have trod those roads before. Wyrmlings will be about."

"Then," Daylan said, "we will do as little harm as we can."

There had been little in the way of planning so far, and this worried Talon. "When we get to Rugassa, how are we going to find the prisoners?"

"We ll learn when we get there," Daylan said. "I have no plan. I don t think any of us does. I have never been to the depths of Rugassa. None of us have. All that we can do is search for our friends until we find them, and that may take a very long time."

Talon scratched her cheek and sat there wondering and worrying.

"Have no fear," Daylan said, smiling at her befuddlement. "Our chances are better than you might think. Rugassa s forces have been drawn thin. Tens of thousands of wyrmlings were required to take Caer Luciare. And if these broken cottages along the road are any indication, Rugassa must have sent troops scattering in every direction to probe their borders and welcome their new neighbors." Daylan smiled at his own jest. "Thus, the military might of the fortress is less now than it has been in two dozen years."

"And not all wyrmlings are warriors," the emir added. "Most of them have more humble professions-miners and craftsmen. Or course, most of them are but women and children. I cannot imagine that there will ever be a better time to break into Rugassa and free our friends than there is now."

They re right, Talon thought. There won t be a better time to probe the wyrmlings defenses. Yet she could not feel at ease.

She peered up at the sky. "How do you think Rhianna has fared?"

Daylan cupped a hand and drew water from the stream; he spattered it on his face and wiped his brow. "She should have found some help by now. When you re giving away forcibles, it isn t hard to find hands willing to take them."

"I worry about that," the emir said. "What kinds of friends will she find in this world?"

"People not much different from your own," Daylan said. "I asked Rhianna to watch this road if she can. We may meet up with her soon."

Talon worried. She knew what small folk around here were like. The whole of Mystarria had been carved up by its enemies. Fallion Orden was the rightful king of this land, but his rivals had hunted him since childhood and driven him to the ends of the earth. On his return, he should have had a kingly welcome. Instead he had found his lands beleaguered, his country embattled and torn, lorded over by brutish men.

Where would Rhianna go for help?

If she did offer these lords forcibles, surely they would take them. But like a rabid dog, they would then turn and rend her.

Rhianna s treasure might lead to her own demise.

"Let s go," Talon said, eager to have some of her questions answered.

Soon, Talon received more endowments. She felt a distinct slowing of time as her Dedicate was given an endowment of metabolism. The emir must have gotten similar endowments, for in a few minutes the race began to grow more furious.

They charged over the broken road at thirty or forty miles an hour, going airborne when they topped a small rise. Around them, the world was revealed as never before. Though a slight wind was blowing, as evidenced by a bending of the grass, Talon could not feel it.

Bumblebees that rose from the stubble seemed to hang in the air, and she could see their wings clacking together where there should have been only a blur. The sun seemed to hang as motionless as a shield upon the wall of some keep, and when a cottontail tried to race from the path ahead, Talon could easily have reached down and snatched it by the ears.

The road itself was an odd thing, broken up in the great binding. Rough grasses, weeds, and the occasional gorse bush had sprung up during the change. So it was easy to see where travelers had passed recently.

Wyrmling sign was heavy. Several handcarts had left their marks upon the trail.

Talon shivered. She had been down this road before.

All too quickly, the company reached an abandoned inn among some trees, where the folk of Caer Luciare had fought the wyrmlings only days before, when Talon and her friends had been rescued. The roof had been blown off of the building. The cloying scent of blood filled the glen. It had been a fierce struggle, but the forest showed little sign of violence. The squirrels still barked in the trees, and the mother robins still flew to their nests in the bushes. The sunlight was slanting brightly into the little clearing. It was as if already the forest was erasing all evidence of the battle, eager to forget.

But flies lay thick upon the corpses of the few wyrmlings lying there by the inn, warriors whose fingers had gone black and whose bodies had bloated. The human men who had died so bravely here had been laid to rest in nearby graves.

How much easier this battle would have gone, Talon realized, if even a few of my people had taken a handful of endowments.

Talon and the men hurried on for several miles, racing over a long, low hill. They had not gone far when Daylan called for a halt. "It s time to eat," he said. "Listen to your stomach. A Runelord cannot choose to eat with the rising and the setting of the sun. It takes as much energy to run a dozen miles for a Runelord as it does for a common man. But with your endowments of stamina, it becomes easy to ignore your basic wants, such as hunger.

"Your body needs sustenance, and you will need to eat often. The battles ahead are hard enough, without battling hunger at the same time."

Talon stopped, and the company got food from their packs. There was venison with onions and mushrooms cooked into pastries, and some sort of sweet roll with elderberries. The fare was hearty but light. For drink, Talon sampled from her skin. What came out was a remarkable beer, dark in color and hearty in taste. It seemed to renew her and take away small aches of the journey at the same time.

The company wolfed down their fare and soon was off again.

Endowments were being added quickly now, one every few minutes. At times Talon would feel renewed vigor, or her thoughts would feel more cogent or her senses would sharpen as various attributes were passed on through her vectors.

Talon wondered at Daylan s warning about the battle ahead. Right now, she felt so powerful that she could not imagine a skirmish that would be hard. She suspected that she could cut down wyrmlings all day, felling them like cordwood, without breaking a sweat.

But the wyrmlings had begun to take endowments, too.

And among them were fell sorcerers whose powers might dismay even a Runelord.

For thirty miles they ran, following hard on the wyrmling trail. Twice they saw villages in the distance where the small folk had lived. But the roofs had been torn off of houses and the animals were gone, proof that the wyrmlings had already taken their toll.

Still, after a bit, Daylan called another halt, and the company set a quick camp in such a village. They gathered chickens for lunch, raided vegetables from a garden, and made a quick stew in order to supplement their rations.

Talon searched for any sign of survivors, but the wyrmlings had left none. She found evidence of children snatched from their rooms, babes robbed from their cradles. She found blood-smeared walls, and the bodies of a pair of young lovers whose heads had been taken so that the wyrmling harvesters could remove their glands to make foul elixirs.

Anger seemed to harden in her stomach, and Talon longed for retribution.

Erringale warned me not to strike in anger, she thought. But how can I not hate the wyrmlings who have robbed so many of so much?

The party finished their meal and sprinted forward again, traveling a dozen more miles. They neared a small, heavily forested hill when suddenly Talon caught a familiar scent in the wind.

"Halt!" she cried, and drew her blade. She stood warily at guard, and the Cormar twins drew their own weapons.

"What s wrong?" they asked.

"I smell death," Talon said. The endowment of scent that she d taken from Alun s dog was serving her well. "I smell fear, too. A battle happened here not long ago."

Talon cautiously led the others to the top of the hill, and in the morning sun began to find wyrmling corpses littering the woods. On the far side of the hill was a giant dead graak, still tied to an enormous pine.

"There has been a battle here," one of the Cormar twins said, stating the obvious. "But who fought, over what, I cannot tell."

There were no horse tracks. The wyrmlings were large, and some of them weighed as much as five hundred pounds. With such weight, their feet had left deep gouges in the dry forest floor as they skirmished. But their foes seemed to leave little sign. There were no heavy tracks from a warhorse, no tracks from men.

In the depths of the trees they found a cave near the crest of the hill, its opening obscured by brush. A cooking fire had burned there recently. The ashes were still warm.

"The wyrmlings camped here," Daylan said. "But they were attacked last night. But by whom, I wonder?"

"Perhaps the wyrmlings killed each other," the emir hazarded. "The only sign that I see is from wyrmlings. See there?" He pointed to two bodies that had fallen near one another, as if they had slain each other in a duel. "It looks as if this was a robbery of some kind."

"Wyrmlings often fight one another," Daylan confirmed. "But usually not on such a scale."

As they neared the giant graak, Talon caught a familiar scent.

"Rhianna was here," she said, astonished.

"Are you certain?" the emir asked.

"Yes," Talon said, rejoicing to know that her foster sister was still alive. "I smell the jasmine perfume that she often wears. It is all through her clothes."

She studied the scene with new eyes. The wyrmlings lay scattered about in every direction. Rhianna had taken them on the wing. She would not have had to land in order to fight, and even if she did land for a moment, her smaller weight hadn t left much in the way of tracks on the ground.

The wyrmlings had not been dead long. Their stomachs had not grown distended; the blood on them was congealed but not crusted.

"They fought only a few hours ago, it would seem," Talon said.

Talon detected something else-a coppery scent very much like blood, but subtly different. "There were forcibles here."

Like a bolt, understanding hit her.

"Yes," Daylan said. "The wyrmlings were shipping them to Rugassa on their foul graak. Rhianna must have wiped out the guards and stolen their treasure. Good girl, to keep it from Zul-torac s troops!"

"Rhianna must have taken a few endowments of her own," Tun Cormar suggested. "She was not such a warrior when last we met."

Talon bit her lip, peered around. "If Rhianna won the wyrmlings forcibles, where did she take them? She could not have flown far with so much weight."

The emir suggested, "Ah, but if she had endowments, there is no telling how far she traveled. We could spend all day searching for them in these hills. I suggest that we ask her when she comes."

He peered up along the horizon, as if searching for Rhianna, and suddenly his face went pale and stricken. "Hide!" he shouted, and he grabbed Talon s sleeve and pulled her back behind the dead flier.

She looked up to the south, saw what he had feared. In the distance several miles away was a cloud, a gray haze hurtling toward them just above the tree line. Within the haze she could see wings flapping, and the crimson robes of Knights Eternal.

The five of them scattered, racing to the giant black graak, crouching beneath an outstretched wing. Blades were drawn, and the five lay quietly.

"Knights Eternal flying in daylight?" the emir whispered.

"From Caer Luciare," one of the Cormars added.

"Their business must be urgent," the other said.

Talon s heart was beating. She had not fared well against the creatures when last they had met.

They might have seen us already, she thought. She hoped not. The sunlight was anathema to wyrmlings. It blinded them.

But even if they haven t spotted us, Talon realized, they ll see the dead wyrmlings below them, the dead graak. They may come to investigate.

The others were all breathing heavily, each of them filled with dread.

"If it comes down to a fight," Daylan Hammer whispered, "don t hesitate to attack. The sunlight makes them more vulnerable. Take off their heads if you can."

No one spoke for a long minute. The only sound that Talon could hear was the beating of her heart, the rush of her breath as it filled her lungs.

Then came the pounding of wings overhead, the labored flapping. Darkness blotted out the sun. They ve spotted us by now! she thought.

One of the Knights Eternal called out, howling like a wounded wolf.

Talon knew that howl. She had heard it from her father. It wasn t a cry of warning or distress. It was a wyrmling call, a salute to fallen comrades.

They aren t stopping, she realized. They don t need to investigate. They already know what was done here.

The Knights Eternal flew off into the distance, wings flapping thunderously.

The Cormar twins both stuck their heads out from under their gruesome shelter at the same instant, peered up at the passing enemy.

Why can t just one of them look? Talon wondered.

When the Knights Eternal were well gone, the Cormars whispered in unison, "They were carrying something-clutching bags."

What could they be carrying that is so important? Talon wondered.

But the answer was obvious. The fliers were coming from Caer Luciare, heading toward Rugassa.

"Forcibles," Daylan Hammer whispered.

The emir looked Daylan in the eye. "We must attack before the enemy can put them to use."

Daylan clasped him on the shoulder. "We shall."