Moya sat at the long table of the Pig and Pickle’s newly renovated feast hall in the soft glow of magelamps housed in bell-shaped lanterns of violet and golden stained glass. She smiled faintly, recalling similar evenings spent with Niamh and Jeron—simpler times, yet shadowed by their own perils.
Tonight, it was a peculiar party gathered there. There was the serious Dominion couple—Corvus and Emrhys. Moya was sure the two were deeply in love, judging from how close they sat, the soft touches and small smiles they gave one another. Lenore sat in a chair next to the solemn Merrow girl, now and again placing a hand on her shoulder. The classroom’s worth of orphans chattered merrily as only children could do after such an ordeal. Seshka, wide-eyed, sat taking it all in, though she darted nervous looks toward Archmage Miir, who perched like a crow next to her, but was no more intimidating than usual.
In fact, Moya could tell, the older woman was gentler with the girl than Moya had seen her with anyone. Miir seemed fascinated by her, asking her questions about her aether leymagic. Did she have tutors back home before all that had happened? Was she taught up to Form Three?
Zander’s laugh echoed through the dining hall as he teased Willow, who chucked a piece of food at him. Zander pretended to cry and lean on Talli, who just tolerated it as she surveyed all with her quiet intensity.
And Ahn …
Ahndras Frost, her new partner-to-be, if she indeed went through with what they had discussed. The scene reminded her of that meal not too long ago where she’d sat with Niamh and Jeron, who’d traded secret smiles in that newly blossomed mode of affection Corvus and Emrhys now shared; watching Sage Kate and Captain Hawke bickering amiably, and Rexi stuffing entire rolls in her mouth.
Family of the heart could be anywhere, it seemed. In Easthaven amongst her peers; here, in Duskmere, with an aethermage, a table full of Dominion refugees, and Source knew what else.
Looking at Ahn, at the solemn way he listened to Seshka when she spoke, at the guileless smile he offered Zander—Moya knew what she needed to do.
She loved Easthaven, but they needed her here. Someone had to help Ahn in tracking down destructive magics like Larkwing had used on her and Ahn. Like the one called Felsin had used on these children.
And I’m the one who has survived Kraah, Awakened, and whatever Larkwing was. Something terrible. I’m the best hope for Ahn’s success.
Ahn turned to her, catching and holding her gaze. He grinned just a little. A shy, soft expression that warmed Moya to her toes. Ahndras Frost was worth getting to know better. He was worth protecting. She would speak with Captain Hawke, make the arrangements. And what this new life would bring, she could not know.
“Will you stay here in town for a little while, Valiant Moya?” Seshka’s voice, tentative and a little hopeful, cut into Moya’s thoughts.
Silence fell over the room, and all eyes turned toward Moya at Seshka’s innocent question.
Moya took a deep breath, then smiled. “For a little while, yes, at least until I know what’s next,” she said, husky with emotion.
“Oh good! Archmage Miir is spending a few days here, and she has offered to teach me. And if you’re here with Ahn, I’ll spend time with you, Lenore, all the people who saved my life.” Seshka’s happiness melted Moya’s heart.
“Ah, we will enjoy the glory of your company,” Zander clapped in glee. Talli, at his side, actually smiled.
“Thank the Source, Moya. Save me from these brutes,” Willow joked, shoving Zander in the shoulder. Ahn said nothing, but his eyes shone.
“We can be serious later. I was told there would be dessert. Please don’t disappoint us all after the day we’ve had!” Zander lamented.
Laughter scattered over the table like light through a cut-glass window—warm, bright, and lovely—and Moya knew she had made the right choice.
—
Ahndras waited outside of the wardchamber he and Archmage Miir had hastily created using the Garrison’s small jail complex as a base of operations. Thankfully, there were no prisoners other than the robed man who had burst in on the ritual. Corvus, one of the Dominion refugees, and Moya had both been in there for at least an hour.
“Don’t worry,” Lenore said. “My brother-to-be knows what he’s doing.” She smiled, a dangerous expression flickering through her startling blue eyes. “In fact, he’s the best in the world at what he does. I don’t envy that awful ghoul of a man, though he is likely getting what he deserves in there.”
Ahn held back a shiver. The cultist would not talk to anyone—at least, nothing besides ravings about The Mother and an inexorable darkness that would swallow Ahra, unleashing an age of glory to the true believers and unimaginable horrors to those who resisted The Mother’s will. Tiresome, really.
He watched with satisfaction as his aether flickered over the stone walls like a heat mirage, ghostly blue blending with Miir’s lava-orange fire spell. Nobody would use leymagic in that cramped, sealed room—in fact, only the world’s most powerful spells could resist such wards. Archmage Miir was on her way back to Easthaven to report to the Loremaster and Premier Riva. They needed to know the gravity of recent events, which left Ahn in charge of cleaning up the Nightstar Temple and Duskmere’s leylines, searching for any remnant corruption. The abrupt rattling of a key in the prison door’s lock pulled Ahn from his thoughts.
“Success this time?” Lenore stood primly, looking far too eager. She and her sister had lived firsthand through torment at the hands of Felsin, a person responsible for this whole mess. He did not blame her thirst for justice. Moya lingered by the door, covered head to toe in gleaming plate armor, sword drawn and her visor down so that she looked as intimidating as possible. Something in her stillness set him on edge.
“Moya, what is wrong?” He asked, moving toward her.
“He’s gone. Just entirely gone. Like that anathema thing you talked about.” Moya shoved up her visor. Her eyes were wide, lips drawn in a frown.
Ahn and Lenore rushed to the cell door, peering inside. There was nothing to show anyone had been in there except for a lingering stench of dark magic.
“I interrogated him thoroughly. Did not even need to draw blood. I just pressed the holy dagger against his neck, and he screamed and hissed. Said, and my memory is clear on this, ‘You are too late. The Voidsinger sails the stars on her way to forge a new Ahra. Brother Night’s sacrifice will not be in vain. The Harbingers will lead the charge.’ And then, something happened.” Corvus paused, staring down at the dagger local holy mages had enchanted. “Something that I do not understand.”
Moya picked up where Corvus had left off, speaking slowly, picking words out of the air. “It was like something from a bad dream. The blackguard choked on the words, Ahn. Coughing, spitting. Some kind of sigil flashed over his whole face, and then he just… melted. There was that horrible Kraah smell, a lot of gurgling, and now it’s like he was never even there.”
“That sounds like a powerful Spell of Secrecy. Whatever he tried to say triggered failsafe,” Lenore cut in. “He must have taken an oath. I’ll bet my life on it.”
“Yet another knot to untangle,” Ahn muttered. “We need to find out more about these Harbingers.”
Moya scowled. “Yes. As for clues, I found two things when I stripped him of his robes and shoes, searching for weapons: a map to a place called Concord, and a scrap of torn linen that had the phrase ‘Tome of the Stars Beyond the Deep Cold’ painted in what I’m pretty sure was blood.”
Moya’s gaze lingered uneasily on the map to Concord, the hastily scribbled note mentioning the ‘Tome of the Stars Beyond.’ She shivered. Whatever awaited them next, she knew it would test them all to their limits.
“That’s upsetting. And not just the part about the blood,” Ahn said. Corvus, Moya and Lenore all turned to him, waiting for an explanation. “The tome is a legendary book referenced in some of the most esoteric Old Guard texts, including the Starfall Treatises. It’s a heretical text, supposedly baring the secrets of the very gods with the purpose of making mortals something beyond what we were. No copy has ever been found. Surely he wasn’t going to Concord Archives to search for this?”
“I don’t know, but when I first arrived here in Duskmere, the place was crawling with scholars and pilgrims stopping over on their way,” Moya said quietly. “All traveling here because of, what was it Bettine said? Some big to-do…”
“We must go to these Archives, ,” Corvus said.
“But you are to travel to Easthaven with Emrhys, remember? We are all visitors in these lands. We must account for our presence in Tanahr, help your Loremaster,” Lenore said, her tone gentle but firm.
“And Ahn and I must remain here,” Moya said, expression falling.
Ahn signed in frustration. The Duskmere guard could not spare a force for such an expedition, and he did not trust any of the town’s mages—especially after the cultist who apparently disintegrated right here in his town’s garrison.
“Willow is taking care of the children,” Moya said, taking a moment to sheath her sword. “I might find folks in Easthaven, but that will take time we do not have.”
Ahn waved his hands in a sudden gesture of excitement. “Talli and Zander. It’s so simple! They have even traveled there in the past as supply caravan escorts.”
”They seem to be capable warriors,” Corvus said, tilting his head thoughtfully.
“Indeed, as they have proved to me many times over the years. We have a plan, it seems. For now, Corvus, leave his personal effects, including the clues you found. I’ll inspect them for more information, and we will make sure this man, cultist, whoever he was, did not corrupt the leylines here when he faded. If you could let Willow know we’ll be a bit late, and send Zander and Talli to join us here, I would appreciate it.”
“As you say.” Corvus bowed and left, Lenore hanging back.
“Need me to send Emrhys to help?” She asked.
Ahn considered. “Not yet. She and Willow were making such good progress with the children. I can manage things here.”
“Agreed,” Lenore nodded. “Though, there is one more thing you need to know. We in the Dominion—or at least, amongst the mages I studied with, including my father—have our own stories of a similar tome. Only we call it by a different name: The Book of Death Undone. Whoever this man was, it’s clear that we need to be more careful than ever before. If this book is real, we are dealing with powers worse than anything in our wildest nightmares,” she said, speaking so quickly that her Dominion accent bled through into the high Tan’shi words.
“Thank you for telling me—” Ahn started, but Lenore had turned on her heel and was already chasing after Corvus.
“It just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” Moya kicked her boot toe against the stone floor, frustrated.
“You could say that,” Ahn said. His eyes darkened slightly, voice dropping low as he glanced at Moya. “Corruption doesn’t vanish easily. Miir suspects something worse is brewing at the Concord Archive. We must be ready for anything. But we must also focus on what is right in front of our noses or else fear will take over.”
“Nothing will take over us, Mage Frost. Not when we’ll be saving the world side by side.” Moya smiled up at him, eyes bright.
“Side by side. I like that, Guardian Anders. And I promise with all my heart that I’m with you all the way.”
Lizzie Sinclaire 