Reka lay on his side, questioning every decision he had ever made. The empty cup in his hand beckoned him, despite the unpleasant taste of stale water lingering on his tongue. He was convinced now that all was lost. The numbness he had felt when they stopped for the day was gone. Even with the blinding pain, though, he found room in his mind for regret. The thing was he did not regret the things he would have expected.

There was some regret for his failed mission. A little, too, for friends, he would never see again. Mostly he regretted having to leave Mika. He had been looking forward to mentoring her. He wanted to watch her grow into her magic and as a person. He had children of his own, but he was never allowed to be a father. For security, children of Amharani were sent away to be raised in secret. He didn’t regret that sacrifice because he couldn’t feel any kinship with a child he had never met. They were, essentially, the product of a breeding program to ensure the continuation of his line. Those children had families that loved them, and he was content with that. It wasn’t until he met Mika that he felt like he was missing something. Now he would never find out what it would be like to feel pride in a child, as a father would. In essence, he thought, he regretted not having the chance to love.

In his despair, he lost track of time. Night had fallen at some point. Even Tom and Toad’s constant arguing failed to arouse his attention. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the small rock. Whether or not his captors noticed the movement, he neither knew nor cared. He would use the stone to end matters on his own terms. As he was preparing to release the power, a sound came to him. With his head on the ground, he felt it more than heard it. It was a faint thudding. The sound was like a candle being lit in complete darkness. Hope flooded into him, and he sat upright, ignoring the pain.

It only took moments for the sound to become audible. It was the beating of a horse’s hooves, and it sounded as though they were moving fast. Tom and Toad seemed to have heard the sound as well because it ended whatever mundane argument they were having. They both jumped to their feet and drew short knives. Toad looked wary, while Tom was in utter panic. Two horses appeared out of the darkness, and Tom threw his knife blindly at them. The lack of any screams told Reka it had missed.

He couldn’t make out the riders, but when they were within a few yards, they dismounted and came to a sliding halt. Whoever they were, they were obviously experienced. It was a trick worthy of a seasoned cavalryman. The horses, now without riders, slowed and veered to one side. Not war horses, then. Probably typical farm stock. When the dust settled down, two men stood before the camp. One was holding a large bow with an arrow knocked. The other was tall and had a long slender sword at the ready. Reka sighed; it would have to be Aedon.

“Hold it right there,” shouted Aedon.

“Move an inch, and I’ll put an arrow through your gut,” the second man yelled.

Tom and Toad seemed not to know what to do. They stood side by side, glaring at each other. Then, Toad made his decision.

“You did this to us,” he crooned at his tormentor. “Die.”

He stretched out the last word and, before anyone could react, launched himself at Tom. In his fury, he plunged his knife into Tom’s chest. Then he lashed out at Tom with his hands, feet, and teeth. The rabid dog had finally turned on its master, and the result was abhorrent to behold. Tom tried to defend himself and managed a few feeble blows. It wasn’t enough. The carnage lasted several minutes before anyone recovered enough to intervene.

“Shoot him, Dammit,” Aedon yelled.

His partner released the arrow, and it struck Toad in the leg. He didn’t know if the bowman was aiming there, or if Toad’s flailing about caused an errant shot. In either the case, the result was that Toad was no longer mangling the remains of Tom. He screamed loudly and grabbed at his leg. Even injured, he hopped around like his namesake. His wails subsided when Aedon walked to him and placed the sword at his neck.

“That’ll be enough out of you,” Aedon said. He raised his sword to finish the job, and Reka managed a single word.

“No,” he croaked as loudly as he could.

The blade halted its progress half way to Toad’s neck, but Aedon didn’t put it away.

“Why not,” he demanded.

“He may have answers,” Reka said.

That was part of his reason. He didn’t care if the man died, but he still had ideas about finishing it himself. He caressed the stone in his hand. Mika decided the matter for him. If he survived this ordeal, how could he ever teach her the real value and meaning of magic if he used it to commit cold-blooded murder? He added another regret to his list and crushed the stone.

The power in the stone fluttered into him, and he felt better than he had in days. That was to say he could move without the desire to cry. He hated taking the high road sometimes. He tried for wizardly nonchalance when he stood, but it took Aedon’s surprisingly quick reflexes to keep him upright. Things just kept getting better.

“I knew it was you!” Aedon barked. “What were you doing in my swamp?”

Reka would have loved to answer, but the energy he had gained from the stone evaporated, and he slumped to unconsciousness. When he woke, he was in a comfortable bed and covered with thick blankets. Despite the warmth, he was shivering uncontrollably.

“Where am I?” He asked to no one.

“A safe place,” replied an unfamiliar voice.

Reka rolled toward the voice and saw a squat man in brown robes. He had a kindly smile on his face, and his brow furrowed in concern.

“You gave us all quite a scare. Thought we’d lost you for a while. I’m Brother Mark, by the way.”

“Water.” Reka pleaded.

Brother Mark went to a small table and filled a large cup, and crushed a small object into it. He stirred a few times and came back and handed it to him.

“This is going to taste awful, but drink it all. We need to get that fever under control.”

Reka guzzled the tincture. He tried to say something, but only managed a garbled, “Arghst.” With that, he was asleep once more.

He had always possessed the ability to maintain a form of consciousness in his dreams. They always seemed to be happening to another person, and, though he could not manipulate them, he could never forget them. This dream was different. He was inside it in a way he had never experienced. The images flashed and danced in his mind. Mika was lying dead on the ground before him. Alexis was laughing at him while Gregory whipped him. Aedon ran his sword through him. He incinerated Tom and Toad as he had planned. Mika standing over her dead father, proclaiming that she preferred Reka. Those and a thousand more were assailing his mind. He woke up screaming.

“Papa!” Mika screamed.

He clawed at the blankets and threw them aside. In his panic, he knocked over the washstand next to his bed. The images replayed inside his mind, and he tried to get up and run from them. He only managed one foot on the floor before he collapsed in exhaustion.

He was flopping about when Aedon and Brother Mark ran into the room. They took him by the arms and forced him back into bed. Aedon actually sat on his chest as Brother Mark mixed another tincture. Reka lay helpless as the horrific scenes faded from his memory. He calmed a little and allowed the drink to be poured into his mouth. He spluttered and gasped, but managed to swallow some of it.

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“There there, old fella,” Mark was saying softly. “Drink it all down.”

He felt the pressure lift from his chest as Aedon stood.

“How long’s he gonna be like this,” Aedon asked.

Brother, Mark sighed. “Hard to say. Thorn Tree cuts are hard enough on a man when there are only a few, but I’ve never dealt with this many. If he’s still alive in the morning, I think he has a chance.”

“What about the other one,” Aedon asked.

“Oh, it was a simple matter to remove the shaft and patch the leg. He may never walk the same again, but he’ll live.”

“Well, don’t work too hard on him. He ain't gonna be around too much longer.” Aedon said dismissively.

“Aedon,” Brother Mark scolded, “I will treat that man as if he were my own son. I do not control his fate when he leaves my care, but he won’t die on my account.”

Reka watched Aedon storm out of the room. He was not looking forward to their eventual conversation. Like a bolt of lightning, a thought struck him, and he sat up.

“Where are my stones?” He asked fervently.

Brother Mark turned to him. “I don’t know, but for now, rest or I will mix a stronger drink. I think there is someone who will be very upset if you fall unconscious again.”

Mark walked away, and he could see Mika standing next to the bed. Her eyes were red. She looked at him, and her lips began to quiver.

“No, child,” he whispered, “don’t cry.”

He held a shaking hand out to her, and she took it, hers shaking just as much.

“I thought you were dead,” she whimpered.

“Don’t you worry about me, child. It will take a lot more than a couple of mangy old trees to get me.”

She smiled a little at his words. It filled him with warmth to see it. He could feel the medicine working, and his mind grew hazy.

“Go and get your father now, I need to speak to him.”

Mika nodded and ran off. She came back with an obviously upset Aedon.

“What do you want?” He demanded.

Reka was almost out again. “Where are my stones?” He asked.

If Aedon answered, he did not hear it.

He opened his eyes slowly, and the sound of voices assaulted his ears. It reminded him of the time he and Aedon had argued outside Mika’s door. Did they not know there was a sick man here?

“It’s been three days,” he heard Aedon say.

“Yes,” Mark replied. “And if it takes three more, then that’s just how long you have to wait. I will not wake him!”

“Yes, you will,” Reka said.

His throat no longer hurt, and the ever-present headache was gone. He could not feel his wounds either. Brother Mark shooed Aedon out of the room.

“He has pestered me non-stop.” He said, fussing with the covers.

The examination Brother Mark gave him would have taken less time if he had stopped protesting and just let him get on with it. He felt fine. Great, in fact. He lay back and let Mark look into his eyes, mouth, ears, and examine his arms and legs. Finally, he was proclaimed to be in good health.

“May I get out of this bed now?” He asked impatiently.

“If you do it carefully, you may. You haven’t had anything to eat in days. You are likely to be weak.”

He got to his feet and tried to hide the discomfort. He didn’t think Brother Mark was fooled, but thankfully, there was no comment. He found his clothes and dressed slowly. Brother Mark had left while he dressed and now returned with a heavily laden food tray.

“I will give you time to eat before I allow them back in.” Brother Mark said.

He nodded. The food looked delicious, but he forced himself to eat slowly. His stomach hurt as the first few mouthfuls made their way to it. Every so often, he would look at his arms. There were scars where the thorn trees had punctured his flesh. He could not keep the anger from returning as he saw his pockmarked visage. He would deal with that after he discovered the whereabouts of his stones. The door opened, and Aedon walked in.

“I want to know why you were in the swamp,” he said without preamble.

“You know why I was there,” Reka said, lowering his spoonful of food. “If you recall, it doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

“Maybe not the stone!” Aedon shouted. “But the swamp does, and I never gave you permission to go in there.”

“Permission?” Reka yelled incredulously. “There will never come a time when I need or desire your permission!”

The indignity of the last few days had convinced him, for a short time, that he was weak and worthless. Aedon’s insolence reminded him of who he was, and he was not going to endure it any longer. He stood and called on his magic. It came to him quickly.

“I may be weakened, but I am not helpless!” He cried.

The air around him crackled and sparked. Smoke rose from his clothes, and he called a ball of fire to his hands. Aedon took a step back and reached for the door. He reached with his other hand, and a burst of air slammed the door shut. He was quickly approaching his limits with no stones to aid him, but this moment was a long time coming, and even if it meant more time in that cursed bed, it was going to be resolved.

“I am Reka, direct descendant of the Six!” He bellowed. “I have slapped down stronger men than you and for less cause. No longer will you speak to me as a common criminal! I have payment due to me, and I will collect it!”

He launched the ball of flame at Aedon and watched in satisfaction as he cowered. The instant before the fireball struck, he closed his hand, and the fire disappeared into a puff of smoke. Aedon’s face was stricken with horror. He seemed to understand now that Reka was not a man to cross lightly. Reka allowed the power to seep from him.

“Now,” he said, “get off the floor and tell me where my stones are.”

Aedon rose slowly. He staggered to the bed and sat on its edge. While Reka waited for him to regain his composure, he returned to the process of eating.

“After we rescued you and you passed out,” Aedon started.

“I do not care what happened,” Reka interrupted. “I care about where my stones are.” He would not allow Aedon to take control by reminding him that he had needed to be rescued.

Aedon flinched at the interruption. “Ok,” he said.

Reka watched as he removed a large pouch from his belt. Aedon tossed it to him, and he caught it. He poured the contents onto the table and groaned. Only about a dozen small gems glittered in the light of the candle. For anyone that did not know better, there was a fortune in stones. For those that did, the value was incalculable. He brushed the smaller stones back into the pouch. The largest diamond he picked up and inspected.

“Where is Toad?” He asked, dropping the last gem in with the others.

Aedon didn’t answer. He stood and waved for Reka to follow. It wasn’t polite, but it was better than before. They walked together out of what Reka now saw was a church. Reka ignored the stares of curious townsfolk as they made their way down the street. They came to an official-looking building and walked inside. A man sat behind a desk but did not hinder them as they moved to the rear of the building. There were a few small cells grouped along one wall, and Toad was sitting in one of them. He was sitting on his haunches, singing softly to himself. The song wasn’t pleasant.

“Leave,” Reka said simply. He didn’t wait to see if his order would be obeyed.

Toad looked up and glared at him. “You,” he whined. “I didn’t want nothing ta do with you. It is all Tom’s fault.”

“To be precise, you did not want anything to do with me alive,” Reka said. “You were more than happy to loot my rotting corpse. Where is it?”

Toad cackled maniacally. “Where is what?” He crooned.

“The gem you stole, where is it?” Reka asked calmly.

“I ate it!” Toad squawked. He continued his laughter. “Ate and ate and ate. Tom never found it ‘cause I ate and ate and ate.”

Reka slumped. If he had eaten it, then there was little chance it was still in his stomach. He thought about his precious stone lying in the feces of this creature, then pulled one of the smaller gems from the pouch and crushed it. Power flooded into him. He placed a hand on the cell’s lock and, with a jerk, ripped it from the door.

“You will tell me where you ate it,” he said, walking into the small enclosure. “You will tell me where you crapped it out.” He was now face to face with Toad. “Then you will tell me where you want to be buried.” He grabbed Toad by the throat. Toad tried to grapple with him, but he ignored the clawing fingers and kicking feet. “You will tell me this because, if you don’t, Tom’s fate will seem very pleasant.” He kept the pressure on his windpipe until Toad’s face began to turn blue, and then dropped him to the floor.

When toad stopped gasping for air, he returned to his cackle. “I ate it after we stole you and I shat it out the next day.” He said in a singsong voice. “Tom ain't never gonna find it, so I ate it again, and again, and again, and again. Didn’t taste so good last time, ain't no water to wash it off.”

Reka grimaced in disgust. “When did you eat it last?”

Toad seemed to realize he had something of value. He stopped hopping around and looked directly at Reka.

“Aint gonna never tell ‘less you leave me outta here.” He said slyly.

Reka’s patience was at an end. He called on his magic again. It came, but this time is was strained and flowed slowly. His head began to hurt, and he struggled to keep upright. He didn’t have the energy for this. Once again, the high road would have to be his path. He left Toad and walked out of the cell.

“You need a new lock,” he said as he passed the man behind the desk. “And the next time he shits, inspect it.”

The man looked up at the request. “Inspect his shit?” He asked stupidly. “For what?”

“For anything, that isn’t shit!” Reka yelled. He needed more sleep. “Send for me when you find it.”

Aedon was standing at the front door listening intently. Reka turned his way. “I’m going back to bed. I do not know how long it will be before I am at full strength. Until I am, you will need to continue Mika’s education.”

“I can’t do magic,” Aedon said.

“Obviously.” He responded shortly. “But you can fight, and I want her to know-how as well.”

For the second time, he did not wait for a response. He went off to find a bed.

“Good to see you up and about,” Sean said.

Reka recognized Aedon’s partner in the rescue. “I need a room.” He said, ignoring the kind words.

“How long ya staying?” Sean asked, handing over a key.

“Until I leave,” he replied irritated.