Harbiya slumped in an alley to catch his breath. He raised his hand before his eyes in the dim light of the nearby lanterns and was surprised to find he was shaking.

That man, Amaro Moess, had been in the personal guard of Ar-Ad back in Ara-Era. Why was he here? He held his head in his hands.

Calm down. Think.

Something nagged in the back of his mind. He didn’t have enough information.

He forced his nerves to calm down, gathered himself before heading back into the flow of people, and found a tavern halfway across town. It was full to bursting because of the festival, an effect that had been missing at the Inn. He drew out a king’s coin and held it up. The gold inlay on the silver coin sparkled brightly with the small white gem ensconced at its center. It captured the attention of many patrons. He walked to the bar and slapped down the coin.

“Drinks on me!”

The tavern rang with a cheer, and everyone raised their glasses in salute.

One of the men at the bar gave up his seat, and Harbiya took his place. One after another, people came up to receive their drink and greeted him, and he easily joined in their jokes and laughter. He shook the hand of the next person in line.

“It’s good to have you here, sir!” Harbiya exclaimed over the noise around him. “It wasn’t nearly this fun over at the Inn!”

The man laughed good-naturedly. “The Erans can burn for all I care, and that brat too! I hope that inn falls to the ground!”

The man took his drink and made to leave, but Harbiya casually caught the man’s arm.

“Come! Tell me this story! I thought all the Erans had been driven into the mountains by now.”

The man hiccuped and took a swig. “Yeah, but not that one! He’s got that Temaman protecting him.”

“You called him a brat. How old is he?”

“Eh, Erans all look the same! He might be fourteen, maybe eighteen, your guess is as good as mine. He came with that Temaman as a li’l babe, way back when this town first started. That inn’s the oldest building in Edge, y’know?”

Harbiya patted the man on the shoulder.

“I better get the drinks to the rest. I do love a good gossip, though! Thanks for entertaining me.”

“No,” the man pointed a finger at Harbiya with the hand holding the drink, “thank you.” He wobbled off, and another took his place.

Harbiya gleaned bits of gossip here and there, and not always about the inn so that he would be less conspicuous. Yet, he learned a great many things. Moess was going by the name of Hyrestl these days. The Eran brat under him went by the name of Rylen and had recently gone missing. Hyrestl and a few craftsmen had left to go look for him.

It was all falling into place now. Everything lined up too well.

It was Harbiya’s guess that these craftsmen had been planted by the king after the war ended. They would serve as a catalyst to help build the town and create a cover for Moess’s presence as well. Their presence would provide a solid core to Edge, while also attracting business from further down the valley.

Relocating farmers and craftsmen who had been displaced from the valley was to be expected after Ara-Era’s invasion. It was simply a part of reconstruction and repopulation efforts.

As for Kassim and Adilah, their creation of an asylum for Kamwa runaways served to cripple any spying efforts that might unveil the king’s prize. Also, their initiative in creating a second site for religious pilgrimage greatly contributed to the town’s growth.

Even as Harbiya knew all of this was just conjecture, it fit too well with what he already knew.

As nobles received reports of the Kamwa vacuum in Edge and the growing spiritual importance, they flocked there to build extravagant villas—villas and whatever vaults were also built and hidden within them. As such, both money and plenty of work for the struggling peasantry was created. Many flocked to Edge, and the town grew faster than any other.

For years now, Harbiya had been wanting to scout out those vaults. However, he’d been busy wresting his estate back from the greedy, grubby hands of the nobles after the war. After that, he’d focused his attention on secretly solidifying his position as a faction leader among the Kamwa and finding the King’s Desire.

He shook his head. The king was a truly fearsome foe. He’d used his skills and powers in managing the country to fully mask his true intentions. It was common knowledge among nobility that the king’s power structure had been shaky on his return. He didn’t have an heir, and he didn’t announce a crown prince from among the sons of his concubines. The fact that he hadn’t brought much back from his glorious victory over Ara-Era only worsened this. By anyone’s account, the throne was left wide open for a take-over. If the king died without appointing someone to succeed him, it would be up to the lords and princes to decide. Secret conspiracies had arisen, and nearly every family had aimed to profit from any form of political fallout.

The one thing that none of them knew was it had all been planned from the beginning. As the leader of a burgeoning faction within the Kamwa, Harbiya had heard all of their dirty little secrets, including some of the king’s.

It was all a ploy. The king wanted to sniff out disloyalty, and he had done so flawlessly by using the perfect bait: the throne. All that his elite Kamwa had to do was put their ears to the ground and listen. Or, in this case, to a great many walls.

This was part of the reason Harbiya had chosen Bardullah. The previous Lord Daum had left a positive impression on the ruler, one that wouldn’t fade easily. Bardullah might not know it, but ol’ Daum had nearly sacrificed his title to set Bardullah up with far more valuable cards than he knew he had.

Harbiya smiled. There was that and the fact he commanded the loyalty of all of Bardullah’s Kamwa. Most other nobles had at least one Kamwa fully loyal to them. Not so with the Daum family. Their state of affairs was in disrepair. No one could see that better than the Kamwa closest to them. Despite that, the family had invested in the king’s interests more heavily than any other family, and they all knew it.

It was Harbiya’s guess the king was simply biding his time to bring forth his prize, and when he did, he’d reassume complete control. Those he wished to bless would be blessed; those who he wished to curse would be cursed. Bardullah would likely be blessed greatly for ol’ Daum’s sake.

That prize was Rylen somehow. That’s what Harbiya’s gut told him. Perhaps the King’s Desire was a key to a treasure, and not the treasure itself.

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Harbiya made his exit. He didn’t need Leyla anymore. Rylen was their prey. And a certain man named Hyrestl needed to die.

***

The next morning, Jak and his men entered Edge. They checked briefly with the gate guards to see if an Eran had passed through, but they hadn’t seen Rylen or any other Eran. One of them, upon recognizing Jak, walked up to him.

“Have you seen Hyrestl around anywhere?” he asked.

Jak frowned. “No.”

“Well, if you do see him, notify us. He’s definitely not himself. He beat up two guardsmen and almost killed one of the inn’s customers.”

Worry creased Jak’s brow. “Is he in town, then?”

“Maybe, maybe not. He was last seen running out of the inn.”

“Right, thanks for the heads-up. We’ll keep a lookout for him.” He eyed his men, sharing an understanding between them. They had all been caught off guard when Hyrestl had disappeared as they were sleeping. He hadn’t even told Jak where he was going.

They all traveled back to the smithy but had to walk their horses the whole way because of the number of people on the streets. They stabled the animals, and everyone gathered together in Jak’s house. None of them spoke, but they gratefully accepted the refreshments from his wife.

They had spent yesterday traveling up and down the road looking at the face of every traveler, even those on horseback. They hadn’t spotted Rylen once. Some had asked who they were looking for, and they had to simply respond, “King’s business.”

Jak was beginning to doubt his decision. However, all signs they had found in the forest had put Rylen traveling in the direction of the lake. The appearance and behavior of the so-called black demon was too close to what they might expect from Rylen too. The supernatural part still didn’t make sense to him, but perhaps it was the reason they were protecting him in the first place: Jak knew Rylen was important somehow. Perhaps the reason the king had chosen to send the convoy now was because of timing. Was Rylen something other than…well, human? He shuddered at the thought. He had a duty to carry out. After that, he and his men would be rewarded, and they could wash their hands of this business.

The back door of the smithy opened, and Jak started in surprise. It was Hyrestl. They all eyed each other.

“I met an enemy yesterday.”

“What enemy?” Jak asked.

“A man from my days serving under the Ara-Erans. He’s sly and dangerous. He can disappear from your sight entirely.”

Jak shifted uneasily. “That sounds like a Kamwa.”

Hyrestl nodded, looking at him with tired eyes. “That would explain a lot of things, I think.”

The other men grew nervous.

“Do you know why the man was there?”

Hyrestl shook his head.

Jak took a breath. “Okay, men. Active Kamwa are on the prowl. Keep your wits about you and your ears open for wind whispers. If my hunch is correct—and I think it is—Rylen will be returning to the city. We have to assume the Kamwa are looking for him as well, though I don’t think they are. Spread out, and some of you watch the roads into town. If you find him, secure him and don’t let go. Send word as quickly as possible… And if you find a Kamwa, kill them if possible.”

He turned to Hyrestl. “Let’s hope the convoy arrives soon to back us up.”

***

Harbiya stood outside the one-room house where Adilah was being kept. He sipped a green tea that warded off the cold of morning. The first frost had come, and the days would quickly become colder yet.

The man he’d sent after Leyla had been killed, and his attacker had died as well. Harbiya sighed quietly. Juman had been known for his prowess in the Kamwa arts. He hadn’t seen the man once in his visits to the temple. It was like the man had a sixth sense for avoiding him.

It was the same before Juman ran from the Kamwa. He had always managed to slip out of his grasp in one way or another. He’d wanted him to train up more Kamwa for his own purposes, but the man had eluded him. It annoyed him to no end. Yet, with Juman’s death at the hands of one of Harbiya’s own men, there was a certain amount of satisfaction…and displeasure. Juman was dead, but so was his own man. Was that the extent of their abilities? They couldn’t kill a tired, old Kamwa without dying too? Harbiya’s lip curled in disgust. Even in death Juman annoyed him.

Harbiya took another sip and calmed himself. He didn’t need Leyla anymore. He’d found out what he was after. Technically, he didn’t need Adilah anymore, either. He couldn’t imagine she could locate a person with the Third Eye. The King’s Desire was no more than a key to the real treasure. But what was that treasure?

It didn’t matter, really. Whoever possessed the key may as well possess the treasure itself. It did trouble him that he didn’t understand how Rylen might be the key, but he had heard of and experienced stranger things in his travels. Perhaps this boy was of religious importance to Ara-Era?

He shook his head. What should he do with Adilah and Kassim? Kassim and his two escorts had arrived at Edge, but Harbiya had made them stay at another location while he deliberated what to do.

His men were combing the streets and casually asking around about any Erans. He’d almost sent out half of them to start combing the valley, but word came to him beforehand that the craftsmen had returned.

Now that he thought about it, Moess had returned earlier. That meant their best guess for Rylen’s location was in Edge. This was fortunate, however also not, in that the convoy was coming directly to Edge as he had anticipated. He was sorely outnumbered.

Right now, the power base in Edge was twofold. There was the retired Kamwa of the temple and the craftsmen backed by the power of the convoy. Both parties held knowledge of Kamwa secrets which greatly reduced his men’s effectiveness.

He drank more tea, enjoying the warm sensation it spread through his body. He caught himself. If he wasn’t careful, he’d become like that sniveling prince mooning over his beverages.

He smiled. That poor prince. For that’s what he really was. Ol’ Daum had sacrificed his fortune on a make-or-break gamble. Too bad the old man wasn’t alive to see the plan to its end.

Speaking of fortunes, Harbiya turned his attention to the gold-plated spires and towers looming over the city on the other side of the hill. He almost drooled at the thought of pillaging their riches. He didn’t know how much treasure the nobles had stockpiled in Edge for safekeeping from the Kamwa, and the thought of it infuriated him.

An idea suddenly popped into his mind. He grinned widely. Oh yes, that would certainly be worth it.

He went inside, and Adilah sat up. Harbiya assumed a concerned expression.

“My dear Adilah, I’m afraid I’ve been very mistaken and very rude to you.” He opened the door wide and motioned to the exterior. “Please, you are free to go.”

A look of alarm crossed her face.

“I won’t lead you to Leyla. You should know this.”

Harbiya cocked his head to one side and feigned innocence.

She swallowed. “What about my husband?”

He motioned to one of his men, who slipped out the door.

“He’s gone to tell the others your husband is free to go.”

Adilah glanced from him to the door but made no move to leave. Harbiya shrugged and got comfortable while he waited.

After about half an hour, Kassim appeared with the escort. Kassim saw Adilah, and they ran into each other’s arms. They hugged each other in a tight embrace.

“How nice,” Harbiya said, “the lovers are reunited.”

Kassim turned and glared daggers at him. Harbiya simply smiled and motioned to the door. The priest ground his teeth.

“Black breaths, you’re evil, Harbiya. I hope you die a flaming death.”

“I think the feeling is mutual.” A glint shone in the captor’s eye.

The couple headed warily for the door, then suddenly sprinted out as fast as they could. Harbiya stepped into the doorway and watched them go.

“If you want something done right, do it yourself.” He looked back at his men. “Spread out over the town. Keep your eyes open for that Eran brat, but be ready for my word on the wind.”

He explained his plan to them, and just as he was about to leave, he stopped. He took off every one of his valuables and laid them on the table. He retained only his clothes and a simple knife.

He tapped the table.

“You all do the same.”

He’d been thinking about this as he had traveled with Kassim and Adilah and tested the extent of their powers. They had a high degree of accuracy with their Third Eye. They could not only sense the location of valuable items but the degree of their worth as well. Adilah had even been able to tell coins apart from trade goods. That meant she might be able to track certain people based on the valuables they carried with them.

Harbiya glowered. He wanted their power for himself. But now was not the time for that. He stepped out the door and faded from sight.