A cloud of dust hung over the rocky crags beyond Kadir's City of the Dead, but it couldn't be from the collapse of the tower in Katay Alba. The dust filled tunnel he just travelled through from Kael's library hideout had emerged near the falls at the abyss, cleverly disguised behind curtains of grey, stonelike vines that hung from the rocks near the water's edge.

Walking along the river towards Kadir, Corvan paused at the causeway where the last-ditch effort by the Broken had resulted in them all being swept downstream over the falls. High above the other side of the Cor River, he could make out the collapsed entry into the Molakar settlement and, further to the left, the winding trail leading up to the portal door and then the labyrinth. That door was the only way to get to his home, but he would need the key and also Kate's medallion for the labyrinth. According to the old watcher, Kate was in grave danger but all he had was a vague recollection of talking with her in his medicine induced dream. She had been angry with him - he couldn't remember why. Regardless, his first priority was to get inside Kadir and find Kate. Gavyn might be able to help locate her.

Taking his bearings from the shrouded statue at the temple Karst, Corvan cautiously worked his way through the broken side of Kadir towards the central plaza. His first thought was that he could convince Kate to stay home while he returned to rescue his father but given the way she had been talking in the chamber, he was beginning to wonder if she might want to stay in the Cor instead. Since their friendship had grown more distant, and with her mother gone, Kate really had nothing waiting for her at home.

Pulling himself through a gap in a broken wall, he winced as the folds of his tunic tightened against the wound on his forearm. It wasn't until he emerged into Kadir that he had taken the time to check the cut he had received from being clipped by the arrow at the top of the tower. He had washed and bandaged the wound near the falls but there would be no question as to where he had gone. His trail of blood in the tunnel would allow the Rakash to track him as soon as they could clear the rubble under the collapsed tower.

His hand rested briefly on his chest. Even without the trail of blood, the Rakash could likely track the power of the Lifelight even inside its crystal vial. He was constantly aware of its potent warmth resting over his heart and seemingly pulsing in time with his every heartbeat. Corvan forced his hand back to his side. His intimate knowledge of how a natural lumien seed affected him both mentally and physically, only added to the growing desire to experience the Lifelight. Watching the single drop fall into Tsarek's mouth and observing the long shiver running through the lizard's body had awakened Corvan's curiosity and desire.

Shaking his head firmly, he turned back to look through the gap to the mist hanging over the falls at the abyss. Back there, when he had taken his tunic off to bandage the wound on his arm, he had set the glowing pouch off to one side. He had tried his best to ignore it, but even as he took care of the more immediate need of his wound, his eyes kept drifting to the light from the symbols on the pouch. They were similar to the ones on the hammer and the medallions but more elongated, as if the fabric itself was being stretched by the light trying to escape. As he bandaged the cut, he fought back the thought that one drop of the liquid would not only instantly heal his wound – it would give him incredible strength.

Tasting just one small molecule of vapor on his tongue had left him with no doubt that if he opened the pouch and took the vial out to look at it, he would try a drop himself. In the end he could become as evil as Kael's grandfather. Well, at least according to Kael. Corvan could not know for certain the man was telling him the truth, yet the thought had frightened him enough to decide back at the falls that it would be best to leave the vial behind and not carry it with him. He would bury it near the tunnel's entry and then pick it up on his return to Kael with the scepter. He would give it back to the man in return for setting his father free.

After bandaging up his arm and putting his tunic back on, he had dug a hole in the sand next to rock face where the tunnel from Katay Alba emerged. Picking the pouch up by its cord, he had dragged it over and dropped it inside. Without looking at the symbols glowing in the bottom of the small pit, he covered it over with sand, but as he had stood to his feet and turned to leave, there was a bump against his leg. The sand encrusted sachet was hanging from the cord still clutched in his left hand.

There was no point to trying to bury it. He did not have the willpower to leave it behind. Telling himself it was because it was too valuable to leave where the Rakash might dig it up, he had looped the pouch back around his neck, then made his way toward Kadir.

Corvan turned away from the sound of the falls in the distance and looked toward the central plaza of Kadir. He needed to focus on making his way back home and returning with the scepter. He wanted to be back in Katay Alba when they pulled his father from the pool and make sure he was alright. In the tunnel he had tried convincing himself that he only imagined her pouring something into the water where his father was submerged but he could not let the image go. Maybe she had been scooping up some of the elixir for her own potions instead. He needed to know that whatever Teek had been pouring into the pool, it had not been her mother's poison. It made no sense that Teek would poison the elixir, since she was completely opposed to killing the Rakash boy.

Corvan pulled himself from his musing, adjusted the sleeve around the cut on his arm and worked his way into the next broken alleyway. Just ahead was the central plaza of Kadir with its broken statue. Crouching in behind the fountain wall that circled the headless stone figure, he found the gate into the palace side of Kadir wide open without a soldier in sight. Circling to the right he ran across to one side of the gate, ducked beneath the guardhouse windows and looked through the open gate.

"Shouldn't they be coming from the ceremony by now?" A nasal voice came from the window just over his head. "We should shut the gate. It's not good to leave it open."

"You've obviously never heard the High Priest give a speech," the second voice growled. It came from a doorway just ahead and it belonged to the guard with the rotten teeth he had run into up at the temple Karst when he rescued Tyreth.

The nasal voice above Corvan responded. "When I saw the High Priest fall into the water, I knew he had something up his sleeve."

"Yeah, right," the low voice retorted from the doorway. "You thought he drowned just like the rest of us. I bet he was hiding out in the palace this whole time, telling Tyreth how to rule and getting things set up to have her marry the captain of the guard."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Kharag told me."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"And you believed him? Kharag's a liar."

The boot and belly withdrew from the doorway. "Better watch what you say. Kharag's been promoted."

"I didn't know," the first voice above whined. "I never meant anything by it."

"You'd better be more careful with your words. With the captain of the guard killed in fight with the Rozan rebels there will be a few more promotions coming down. I'm putting in for one."

"I said I was sorry."

There was a pause, and the lower voice came from farther back in the building. "No use waiting by the window. The remaining rebels have fled back to Rozan and the palace guard has control to the tunnel into their dark city. They won't trouble us anymore. No matter what we think of our old High Priest, he has finally dealt with that lunatic and his pathetic followers. Jorad was a traitor and was helping them get into the city. We can only hope he joined them as the high priest of their dead city and rots in darkness. None of them are coming here so you might as well come back here and enjoy the spiced wine I picked up at the barracks."

"I like the way you think," the nasal voice responded as it faded farther into the guardroom. "You do deserve a promotion."

Corvan crawled through the gate, up to the guardroom door and peered around the doorpost. The two guards were sitting at a table at the far side of the room with their backs to the door. Corvan slipped past the door and ran up the street and into the shadows of the great arch leading into the plaza.

Corvan scanned the empty expanse. The smaller doors leading to the priest's building hung from broken hinges and the main doors to the palace compound were wide open. Long black banners were draped from the windows.

A man's distant voice echoed off the plaza walls from up at the temple Karst. Two guards stood in the doorway to the seating area, but they were engrossed in the action inside. Corvan moved toward them, ducking down behind the stone pedestals that supported the row of metal lampposts.

He about to make a run for the last lamppost when a hooded figure ran at him from the priest's quarters, gesturing frantically. The man reached him, grabbed his tunic, and pulled him down behind the lamppost base. "Palace Honor Guard is coming," the man whispered. "Stay down."

Corvan heard the tramp of feet behind the pedestal. A group of six soldiers bearing an ornate platform on their shoulders marched slowly up from the palace toward the temple Karst. The man squeezed his shoulder. "Wait for me here. The crowds will soon be rushing out to follow her. Keep your hood over your eyes and don't talk with anyone. I will come back for you after the procession goes by."

Corvan turned back to the man, but he was already gone, melting into the shadows along the far wall of the plaza. Corvan leaned back against the pedestal. There was something familiar about the man but that didn't mean he was someone who could be trusted. Every day that went there were fewer people he could trust. He glanced down at his hands; the fingernails tinged with blue around the edges. He let his sleeves slide past his fingertips. He couldn't trust himself either.

At a sharp jab in his side and he jerked his head up to find the wrinkled face of an old woman looking down at him, a twisted walking stick in her hand.

"Have some respect for the princess, young man." The old woman poked him again with her stick. "Get on your feet. She will be passing by shortly."

Corvan mumbled an apology and was barely standing upright by the base of the lamppost when a crowd swarmed about him, all jostling for position against a line of guards that were forming a barrier just inside the lines of lampposts. A drum began to beat out a slow cadence and the crowd fell silent.

Corvan stood on his toes to see past the soldier in front of him. A mournful tune filled the air as a chorus of women came into view, each face a mask of sorrow. They sang of Tyreth, of her bravery against the Chief Watcher and how she returned the hammer of the ancients to the Cor. They sang of her service to the lead the city of Kadir and her death? Yes, the words of the song were clear: Tyreth was dead.

Corvan wanted to believe it must be a mistake but then Tyreth's father stepped into view behind the women. The High Priest's hood was thrown back and his eyes fixed straight ahead. A murmur of awe rolled through the crowd at his passing. He appeared indifferent to the sound, but Corvan caught a glimpse of that same bright triumph in his eyes that he had seen in the Volisk's cavern. Had the man murdered his own daughter to take over the palace?

Behind the High Priest came the funeral bier, borne by six soldiers in dress uniform. The people pressed forward, blocking Corvan's view and without thinking he jumped up on the base of the lamp post for better view. A woman in a white gown lay on top of the bier, her face covered in a white veil and her hands laid out at her sides. Corvan blinked back tears. Tyreth had been the bravest person he'd ever met.

As the litter passed by his perch, Corvan wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve. The bier was right in front of him now and with one hand grasping the lamp post, he leaned out. He could just make out the scar on Tyreth's face under the veil. His gaze swept down her arm, then locked on the hand hanging free of the shroud.

A shock went through his body, for the wrist sticking out from under the cloth was encircled by a dark twisted bruise.

The light from a torch momentarily pushed the shadows below the veil away.

It was Tyreth. It was Kate!

Corvan lost his grip and tumbled down on top of the crush of bodies below. Hands thrust him up over their heads and pushed him back behind the crowd to fall in a heap. Jumping to his feet, he tried to follow the bier, but angry voices muttered at him as the crowd blocked his way and moved to follow the procession. Corvan slumped down against a stone pillar. Boots hit his legs as people crowed past him. Burying his face in his hands, he shook his head and his stomach churned. He had decided too late to come looking for Kate and now she was dead.

A hand gripped his shoulder. Corvan pulled away, but the person crouched down in front of him and lifted Corvan's hood. It was the same man who helped him escape the notice of the honor guard.

"Corvan, we need to leave." The man waved off two soldiers moving toward them and called out, "He's okay now. The crowds were too much for him. I'll make sure he gets home."

The man pulled Corvan to his feet and helped him move down the plaza steps. Corvan stumbled along, his gaze down at his feet shuffling over the cobblestones. Home? Without Kate? The shadow of the plaza gate fell over him and then they were out in the street with the funeral procession just ahead of them. The stranger pulled Corvan to one side and into a narrow alley.

"Corvan, I know we got off to a bad start at our last meeting, but I assure you I am here to help." He pulled his hood back.

Corvan couldn't remember where he had seen this man before, and he didn't care. Sitting down against the wall he bowed his head, too numb to even cry.

The man sat down beside him. "This might appear to be hopeless, but you've got to pull yourself together. I know where they're taking Kate, and we must get her out of there before it's too late."

Corvan kept his head down. "It's already too late," he mumbled.

"She's not dead." The man raised Corvan's head and looked him in the eye. "Not yet, but we have to get there before them so we can watch which crypt they put her in. You can't open them from the inside if the latches are shut so we will need to get to her quickly. I know that from personal experience."

Corvan sat up straighter. Of course, this was Jorad's brother, Morgan, the man who murdered Jorad's wife and child. Jorad hated him so much he tried to seal the man in a tomb. How could he trust a man like that? He tried looking at the man's leg to see if he was wearing the black band.

The man stood to his feet, and it was obvious that both ankles were unshackled.

"We must hurry, so we can see where they place her," Morgan said. As soon as they leave, we will pull her out of there but if we do not reach her in time, her body will die, and her spirit will be trapped in the council chamber."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.