The wound flared with every rhythmic jolt of Nightwind's trotting hooves.

Cedric clenched his jaw against the pain. Alvir would have known exactly how to treat it, but neither he nor Jana were here. And who bears the blame for that?

They'd been riding for hours, though at a less frantic pace than before. Nightwind was strong, sturdy, and obedient; he barely needed Cedric's involvement at all. It'd been Adrian's idea to head north, as whichever direction took them closer to Borne, no matter how inexact, was preferable to aimless wandering.

Cedric hadn't told Adrian his reasons for going to Borne, and Adrian hadn't asked. But at some point in their journey, certainly when they knocked on the door of Candra Relictus, the exiled Dark Apostle, Adrian would discover the truth.

Waiting until the inevitable reveal seemed dishonest somehow, even cowardly. He and Adrian were now bonded, having narrowly escaped death and capture together, and neither boasted any alternate prospects. Cedric would tell him someday. Just… not now.

The sun carried on with its slow, reliable descent toward the horizon. Now that Cedric was more familiar with his abilities, he could feel the pulse of the night slowly infusing his being, in perfect tandem with the darkening sky around them. Gradually, that mysterious awareness again settled comfortably into his mind, expanding his perception to previously unfathomable degrees.

Cedric closed his eyes. A fresh spring bubbled miles away to the west. To the east, a tiny settlement, barely a town, rustled faintly with minor warmth and activity.

No, that wasn't quite right. His brow furrowed as he concentrated a little harder. The village was nearly deserted. The bulk of its inhabitants were moving in a unified mass to somewhere else.

Adrian had mentioned that the Mourning was to take place at sundown tonight, their original cover to leave Laetera. Obviously, Cedric hadn't exposed the breadth of his ignorance to ask for specifics. Was this mysterious event taking place all over the kingdom?

He pulled the reins.

"Something wrong?" came Adrian's sleepy voice behind him. He'd been dozing off for the past hour or so, a privilege that Cedric had somewhat envied. But of the two of them, only Cedric possessed even the slightest knowledge of horsemanship.

"What is that village over there, to the east?"

Adrian rubbed his eyes. "Probably Braeden. Much smaller than Laetera." He blinked. "Wait, how did you…?" He shook his head. "Nevermind."

"It's not far," Cedric said, squinting in Braeden's direction. "Can we take a detour?"

"If you feel it's worth the risk, not at all."

Cedric had expected arguments, questions, suspicions, but he certainly wouldn't begrudge their absence. He pulled the reins to the east, and Nightwind obliged.

*

Most of Braeden's people had migrated to an area south of town, a few minutes' walk away. Once Cedric saw a faint but extensive mass of light in the distance, like a luminous island among the inky sea of the night, he pulled Nightwind to a stop and dismounted. They both staggered upon contact with the ground, and took a few minutes to stretch and shake loose their accumulated aches from the day's riding.

They set off on foot, with Cedric leading the way and Adrian trailing behind.

"Aren't you worried we'll lose Nightwind?" the latter asked. "He blends in a little too well."

Cedric turned back and noted, with some amusement, that their new stallion was almost invisible in the darkness. But he could feel the steed's presence--his sturdy weight, heavy breath, and strong heart--and was reasonably certain he could find him again. The night and everything in its domain were his to comprehend.

They lowered into a crouch as they approached the gathering of townsfolk, and took cover behind the crest of a hill that overlooked the scene.

Below them stretched an expansive field neatly peppered with long rows of wooden markers, practically identical to what Cedric and Grace had once passed by in Methodosia. The townsfolk of Braeden--elders and children, men and women, perhaps seventy in number--each held a lit candle in their hands. Individuals and small groups stood before almost every wooden marker in the field, their heads bowed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Understanding struck Cedric all at once. "It's tonight, isn't it?" he whispered to Adrian. "The Madness. Seventeen years ago…"

Adrian shot him a disbelieving look. "Of course. They don't hold the Mourning where you're from?"

Cedric drank in every face he could see, now that he knew the sort of stories behind them. Grief, shame, guilt, confusion, resentment--the details of each survivor's tragedy inevitably differed, but the pain did not. Faced with a small fraction of it, in just one of countless towns and villages across Iridesca, its weight upon Cedric's heart was almost unbearable.

"Who was it for you?" he asked Adrian while dreading the answer.

He shrugged. "Possibly my mother. I don't know for certain." He blinked. "Oh, today is your birthday, isn't it?"

Cedric froze in shock.

"You're a Nightchild, right? Born on the night of the Madness?"

Adrian had come to the right conclusion from the wrong assumptions, for not only had the Madness scourged the kingdom on this night seventeen years ago, it had also witnessed the death of Cedric's predecessor at the hands of his own kin.

Someone began to sing from among the congregation below. It was low and solemn, in a language that he didn't recognize, but the melody spoke of loss, heartbreak, grief. Others soon joined him, weaving an aching tapestry of mournful voices that echoed out into the uncaring night. In the end, it was all that the kingdom's people could do--grieve for what they'd lost, and somehow reconcile with the cruel reality of never truly knowing why.

"Yes, I suppose it is my birthday," Cedric said quietly, eyes beginning to prickle.

*

Adrian tossed and turned for perhaps the hundredth time. There was something uncomfortable about sleeping in the open, to have nothing to shield him from the cavernous abyss of the night sky.

Cedric slumbered obliviously beside him, an outstretched hand lightly brushing Adrian's side. He wondered where and when Cedric had become accustomed to sleeping in such stark conditions. Adrian watched the tranquil rise and fall of his breath. No terrors tonight, at least not yet.

Adrian closed his eyes and turned again to his other side, and a blot of faint, reddish light diffused gently through his eyelids. He snapped them open in alarm; not a hundred paces from them, someone had kindled a fire.

Adrian scrambled upright. A figure lounged there, familiar features lit eerily from below, and wearing a sly, dangerous grin.

Kaia had found them.

Before Adrian could do more than choke in surprise, she put her forefinger to her lips and beckoned him over with a tilt of the head. Adrian obeyed. His heart sat like a cold pit in his lower chest while Cedric dreamt on, indifferent to the world.

"Where's the rest of them?" was the first thing he said as he stopped within reach of the fire. A small, skewered lizard roasted atop the flames.

"The rest?" Kaia said. She gently stirred the murmuring coals with a stick.

"Your… cavalry. Every able-bodied man and woman in the region should be hunting us by now."

She smiled. "Sit down, lad. I'd rather not crane my head while talking to you."

Adrian did so with reluctance; fleeing was more difficult from a sitting position.

"But to answer your question, no, I ride alone. In fact, I am the only one in Iridesca who'd know to hunt you as well as him. Does that ease your mind?"

"You tracked us," he said shakily. "Why not take us now? Why waste time talking to me?"

Kaia indicated Cedric's distant form with her stick. "I'd rather wait."

"For what?"

Her dark eyes glittered. "For the poison to do its work."

His stomach dropped.

"I wasn't lying, boy. I guarantee that no herbalist, physician, or apothecary in the kingdom could save him. His sole chance for survival lies with me, so why would I take you two by force when I could let you succumb to desperation and come to me willingly?"

"We won't," Adrian spat with a conviction that he didn't feel.

"Regardless, your dear friend will soon be too weak to put up a fight, and then I'll claim him anyway. I can track you as easily as I did today."

"You're afraid," he said quietly. "You're afraid of his strength. That's why you--"

"You misunderstand me. If I attempt to subdue him now, at his full capabilities, he may end up dead rather than captured. I imagine you'd prefer the latter."

She removed the charred lizard from the fire, blew on it, and tore a strip of steaming meat from its side. "Confer with him if you must," she said as she chewed. "Wherever you two go, I'll be no more than a day's ride behind. A clever boy such as you will come around in no time."

Adrian felt anger bubble up to dissipate the instinctual docility and fear. He'd left behind Laetera, his old life beneath the bootheels of its petty, oafish people. He would not let himself be trampled or toyed with ever again.

He leapt to his feet, glaring down at the Bloodclaw. "Just stay away from us," he snarled through gritted teeth.

She stood as well, six inches above him, and considered him intently with piercing obsidian eyes. The firelight danced across her rich copper skin.

"It will begin with a fever," she said. "Nothing terribly debilitating, at first. But within a few days, he'll begin to spew blood. His skin will dampen and grow cold, accompanied by delusions and ravings. And all the while, the wound will putrefy and spread through his flesh in green and yellow tendrils. Any remaining hope of salvation, beyond that, dies along with him."

She cocked her head. "I can't imagine the magnitude of shame weighing upon your heart. If you hadn't gone to give him up, and if he hadn't risked everything to rescue you, none of this would be happening. And for all this boy's selflessness and courage on your behalf, you'd now condemn him to death as well?"

Adrian's nails dug into his palms from his clenched fists. "You didn't answer my question before, not fully," he said. "Why would you tell me any of this?"

"Your new friend is the most thrilling quarry I could possibly hope for." Her hungry expression matched the one she'd worn while pressing a poison talon to Adrian's forehead. "And I love to watch my quarry squirm."