I may or may not have a soul. Does it matter? If I don’t have a soul, what does that imply? Can I call myself a sentient being, or have I only borrowed sentience from my masters? Sometimes I think I have put off asking this question because I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Eighteenth of Learning 1142

Imagine a floating object in the rough shape of a sphere, filled with scintillating colors so bright and vibrant that they would be too intense to register on your eyes. Imagine those colors forming clouds and floating droplets, ever-moving, always changing. Imagine that you could see the shifting patterns, not just as a puzzle, but a moving three dimensional tapestry that always seemed perfect no matter how it shifted. That was what a healthy soul looked like.

No image defined the puzzle. There was a logic that was purely intuitive. You didn’t exactly see the pattern, you felt it. When a soul was healthy, it felt right. And when a soul was damaged, it was like hearing a discordant note at a symphony. It stood out. Made you take notice.

This wasn’t the case with Lord Ormund, who’s soul had been so sundered that the patterns within it were almost impossible to perceive. But a person with less soul damage was another matter. Soul damage, in most cases, was a dark stain on a white shirt. Thus far, Queen Treya had only observed, making no attempt to make any changes, if in fact she could. In truth, she had no idea how to go about fixing a soul, but every time she saw one, it took her breath away.

She was at the temple of Sylinar examining a man with soul damage. He had volunteered to sit with the Queen, and she studied him for almost an hour. He didn’t complain, but sat patiently, already having been told she would not be able to heal him now as she was just learning. She had offered to compensate him for his time, but he had refused, saying that if she could find a way to help people like him, it was worth it.

He suffered from headaches and horrible nightmares. She couldn’t really understand how what she was seeing caused any effect in the real world, but she could see the place where his soul had shifted. This was the second individual she had examined and the issue was clear.

“Will you tell me how this happened, Lek?” she asked.

“A souvenir of the Undead War. One of the undead touched me in the fighting. I could feel it draining me. I was frozen in fear. Someone else killed it, and I eventually recovered, but I’ll never forget the feeling of my life leaving me.”

Treya shook her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. I’m going to work hard to learn how to use my new skill and perhaps, one day, I can help heal you.”

“Your Majesty, I’m sure you have more important things to…”

She cut him off. “More important? Than healing a man who stood up to the undead under my husband’s banner? Who risked his life for all of us? You sell yourself and your importance to the throne short, good sir. What you did, all of you, I don’t have the words to express the gratitude I feel. You kept the world safe. We all owe you a debt.”

Tears filled the man’s eyes and inside, she saw his soul shift in response. For a second it looked as if the stain on his soul had grown smaller, but it hadn’t. The shifting colors briefly obscured it, nothing more than that.

“Your Majesty, serving with your husband was the greatest honor of my life. We lead such simple lives. I’m a carpenter. I build furniture for common folk. The biggest thing I ever did before that was make a bookcase for a well-to-do merchant. That’s what passes for excitement in Rish for many of us. I never married. I have no children. I only have my shop and the memory that once, long ago, I fought beside a king.”

“I’d like to look at your work if I may. Perhaps I’ll buy something for the palace.”

“Your Highness… my work isn’t good enough for a palace. I wouldn’t presume to…”

Again she cut him off. “You would presume to tell me what I should put in the palace, however?”

Her eyes twinkled, and he dropped his head embarrassed.

“Of course not, Your Highness.”

“You can call me Treya.”

He looked up sharply. “I don’t think I can. You’re the Queen.”

“I’m a woman too. And my friends call me Treya. And I’d like very much to be your friend, if you’ll have me.”

Lek tried to speak but couldn’t find his voice. If the queen bought anything from his shop, even something small, the increase in business would be life altering.

“Your Highness…”

“Treya,” she chided.

“Treya,” his voice trembled as he said it. “I would very much like to be…your friend.”

“Good, well that’s done then. I think I’ll take a few of my friends from the palace when I visit as well, if that’s okay.”

“Your…Treya, that would be…I don’t have the words.”

“And I don’t have the words for what you’ve given and the sacrifice you’ve made. I only grieve that no one has been able to help you in this matter.”

One of the nearby priests who was observing the situation, spoke up. “Soul damage is something that very few people have skills to heal. Sometimes, a god will answer a priest’s prayer, but not always.”

Treya looked troubled. “Will Sylinar not heal soul damage?”

“Sometimes, soul damage ends up being beneficial in ways that humans aren’t equipped to understand. As it was explained to me, it provides a sort of benefit by opening you up to the wider cosmos.”

Treya looked thoughtful. If that was true, if she could somehow heal Ormund, maybe something could be salvaged from this after all. It obviously would never make up for what he had suffered, but if he could gain anything at all out of this…she forced herself not to think about it. She had to focus on learning to use Soul Salve. Still, she was getting exhausted now. She let the soul fade from her vision and slumped in her chair.

She had made progress but only a bit. Learning how to repair souls seemed like it would take an inordinately long time.

*

Eric forced himself to stay awake. He already had quite a lot to think about, trying to remember everything Suzanna had taught him about earth. So much information. He had a good memory and retained much of what she had told him including the days of the week and the months of the year, but it was only a very small drop in a very large bucket. There was so much to learn.

The reason he wanted to stay awake was that he was hoping when he returned to Earth they’d be able to play the Undead Wars. A game. His world was a game. How was it even possible? Did the game control what happened here? Was his entire world just a fiction from another? It didn’t seem possible, but the very thought of it disturbed him.

He would have spoken to Dahr, but his undead captors were right there, and the younger royal was busy doing…whatever it was he was doing. Dahr had a faraway look in his eye and kept turning his head, seeing things Eric apparently couldn’t. Eric had given up trying to figure out what weird or wondrous incredible thing his brother might do next, so he didn’t spend time speculating. Instead he reviewed everything Suzanna had taught him.

When the sky began to lighten, he looked around. The surrounding area, a featureless scrubland that could have been anywhere, wasn’t enough to hold his attention. His cramped legs however, were becoming more and more annoying, so he stood, using a nearby barrel to keep his balance. As it turned out, the ride had become smooth enough that he could stand without too much problem, but he kept his hand on the barrel just in case. Beyond the occasional distant bird, there was grass, some very small trees and a few bushes here and there. And flies. There seemed to be a lot of flies.

“Where are we?”

Eldiss, for once, answered. “I don’t know that this area has a name. No one comes here.”

“Hard to imagine why. And if no one comes here, why is the road in such good condition?”

“The road is old and built to last. And it’s kept cleared by the only people who regularly use it.”

“And they would be?”

“The kindred. The people who live in the Fellowship.”

Eric paled. All his life he’d heard tales of the Fellowship, a strange island inhabited by men and women who had rejected the gods, and had skills and abilities that no one understood. There were stories of more adventurous folk trying to visit the island and never returning. Stories of people who had encountered members of the Fellowship, had offended them, and had paid the price. Many of these stories were contradictory and probably most were fanciful. The truth is, no one really had any idea of who the Fellowship was, what gave them their strange powers and what they wanted, though they occasionally made their way into human society.

The only thing anyone agreed on was that they rejected the gods, which in Eric’s mind made them crazy. The idea they were going toward that place filled him with fear.

“And we’re on this road why?”

Eldiss grinned. “Because that is our destination. The Fellowship.”

“Are you mad?”

“No. The Undead King and the Fellowship have had a treaty for a very long time.”

“What!”

“Yes, they’re on our side.”

Eric shuddered. When had that happened? How come he had never heard of it? Why was Eldiss willing to reveal that information? Did anyone else know about that treaty?

“You’re telling the truth aren’t you?”

Eldiss shrugged. “I never understood why people ask that. If I’m lying, wouldn’t I also lie about telling the truth.”

Eric started to respond but didn’t. It was a valid point. “Will Striker be there?”

Eldiss shrugged again. “She’d better be.”

Dahr finally stirred from his concentration. “Did I hear right? Did he say we were going to the Fellowship?”

“Yep.”

“That’s awesome!” said Dahr.

Eric shook his head then laughed. “You really are insane, you know that.”

Dahr shrugged. “Considering what we’ve been through, I’d be pretty strange if I weren’t.”

Eric realized there was nothing to say to that. He was still trying to hold onto reason when nothing around them made any sense at all. Nothing had for weeks.

“What’s happening to us?” asked Eric.

Dahr grinned. “We’re Sheba’s chosen, Eric. You should be thrilled.”

Eric sat up straighter. Dahr was right—again. This trip they were on, it was an honor. He’d been so wrapped up in everything that had happened, he hadn’t really considered the bigger picture. They were doing Sheba’s work. Even if he died, which he had no intention of doing, he couldn’t really ask for more. He genuinely smiled for the first time in what seemed like a long time.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go see this Fellowship. It can’t be any weirder than what we’ve been through already.”

The words weren’t bravado. Eric had turned the page. He was on a quest for Sheba, and whatever it took, he wouldn’t let her down.

*

Chari looked around at the score of armed warriors that surrounded the chirkir. They had had trouble against three enemies, so if the Andarans turned out to be hostile, it was game over. A month ago, she might have been more worried, since everything she had originally learned about Andara she had learned in Melar and most of that had been from her father. As it turned out, his opinion was heavily influenced by preconceptions she no longer shared. If King Terrence and Queen Treya and Eric were the products of Andaran society, then her father had gotten it wrong.

“Why am I here?” she asked.

The warrior that had welcomed her to Andara answered in perfect Twylish. “I do not know. You should ask the chirkir, perhaps it will tell you.”

“But you knew we would be coming.”

“We did,” said the warrior. “We were told you would be coming by a different chirkir, and were asked to be on hand so we could escort you to Melar. My name is Ganan, and this is my hunting band.”

“Isn’t this a bit large for a hunting party?”

He laughed. “Not when you hunt what we hunt.”

King Leonid had had enough. “This is all very entertaining, but shouldn’t we get going. We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Ganan bowed. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The Andaran had switched to Melarian, and though his accent was heavy, it was easily enough understood. Chari wondered why the gods added accents when translating for people with classes. It wasn’t an unknown phenomena. They were hearing what he was saying in a different language. When he spoke Twylish it was perfect. When he spoke Melarian it wasn’t. Why would Sheba not translate it the same way? That was a mystery for another time. It wasn’t like she had a shortage of things to wonder about that actually mattered.

“Chari, what’s with all the animals?” asked Leonid.

“Oh, they’re Kalutu’s familiars.”

Her father stared at her. “Kalutu’s familiars?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes sparkled at his confusion.

“Chari, you know I study magic right?”

“I do.”

“And you know that you attain a familiar by casting a spell. Familiars can’t cast spells. They can have innate abilities, but they most definitely can’t summon familiars.”

“You should probably take that up with Iorana,” said Chari, “because they are Kalutu’s familiars.”

Leonid looked at Kalutu who nodded but didn’t speak.

Chari took advantage of the pause to get back to her own questions.

“So, Ganan, do you talk to the chirkir often?”

“We do. Many of them live in Andara, and they guide us.”

“I don’t know much about the chikir, but do you have any idea how they know what they know?”

The woman next to Ganan answered. “Chirkir are old creatures. They were here before the gods. They are all connected to each other and live in many worlds. The chirkir know things that others don’t know, because they all share a mind. What one learns they all know. We humans tend to protect our knowledge. We keep secrets to preserve our power or our advantage, or because we are trying to protect ourselves and don’t want to reveal all our survival tricks. The chirkir know a lot because they’ve been around for thousands of years and are spread over many worlds. Because of that, they possess wisdom beyond that of most creatures.”

Chari stared at the woman and then back to Ganan. They both looked sort of familiar, which was impossible of course, because she had never met them. And yet, the more she looked the more sure she became.

“I know this is an odd question,” she said, “but do you know King Terrence of Twyl.”

“Of course we do,” said Ganan. “He’s our son.”

For a second, everything stopped. King Leonid had been about to say something but the words died on his lips. Kalutu’s intensity increased, and it had already been fairly high to begin with.

“I guess that makes us family. I’m married to Prince Eric of Tywl.”

Ganan’s mouth dropped open. His wife however, didn’t seem surprised. “I’m Kirir. It’s very nice to meet you, Princess Chari.”

Chari shook her head. “King Terrence’s parents are named Cassius and Ildris.”

Kirir smiled. “Yes, that was our name when we lived in Twyl. We retired to Andara as is our custom. When we arrived, we shed our veneer of nobility and became normal tribesman. At that time we took our current names.”

King Leonid almost choked. “You gave up the throne to come here!”

“We did,” answered Ganan.

“But why?”

It was Kirir who answered. “Because royalty is a construct of society, not something that actually exists. A king isn’t necessarily stronger or wiser or faster or smarter than anyone else. It’s hard to learn that lesson when you’re a king, and so we come here to remind ourselves of who we really are. Ganan wasn’t the leader of a hunting party when we arrived, just another hunter. He earned his position as leader here.”

King Leonid looked like he wanted to say something but changed his mind.

Chari laughed. “Well, you were told you’d be met by family.”

King Leonid sputtered. “I had thought that the gods had meant my brother. Why would they mislead me like that?”

Kirir shrugged. “Perhaps because they want you to learn something about making assumptions.”

Chari laughed again and her father bristled, which made her laugh harder.

To Chari’s surprise, Kalutu spoke up. He didn’t usually speak in larger groups unless someone addressed him first.

“I’m sorry, is that Sart I see, trying to hide in the back?”

Chari followed Kalutu’s gaze and sure enough, Sart was there, sitting at the back of a small group of guards and servants.

“I believe it is. Guardsman Sart, why not come closer and join us?” asked Chari. “You can regale us with the story of how well you protected me.”

King Leonid looked amused, but didn’t interfere. Reluctantly, Sart edged his way closer.

“Greetings, Princess Chari,” he said, pausing for a second before continuing, “and Kalutu of course.”

“I have not yet thought of a suitable punishment for failing to keep an eye on you. Do you have any suggestions, Chari” asked King Leonid.

Chari was about to answer, but Kalutu, to her surprise, cut her off.

“What level are you, guardsman Sart?”

“I’m Level 6.”

Chari snickered. “You’re only two levels above me.”

“You’re Level 4?” Sart looked confused.

“I am. What will you do with him, father?”

“I have an idea,” said Kalutu.

“Oh?” asked King Leonid.

“Yes, I think you should assign him to protect us.”

Chari had been having a good time, but now her eyes narrowed. “Kalutu?”

“While it’s true that guardsman Sart has been less than helpful thus far, he is another blade, and we don’t know what danger we’ll be facing. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra sword and once we’re on our way, he’ll have to answer to you. If anything happens to you, he’ll eventually have to answer to King Leonid. It will give him a chance to prove himself and give us a bit more protection.”

Chari mulled it over. On one hand she didn’t like Sart and didn’t trust him. On the other hand, they all would have died in that dungeon if it weren’t for Zephyr. More man power wouldn’t hurt, surely.

“Father, I wouldn’t mind taking guardsman Sart off your hands, as long as he promises to obey me. I can hardly have him doing whatever he wants when we’re in a dungeon or something.”

“A dungeon?” asked Sart.

“Yes. We had been in one before this. And in a dungeon, discipline is what will keep us alive. That and Zephyr of course.”

“Zephyr?” asked King Leonid.

“That would be me,” said Zephyr. “I’m from what you call the Fellowship.”

Every eye turned to her. Chari grinned. King Leonid looked like he had swallowed his tongue. If he had been scared of Andarans, he was absolutely terrified of the kindred.

“Perhaps,” said King Leonid, “you might want to fill us in while we walk.”

“Before that, you need to answer a few…”

The surge of energy overtook her suddenly, cutting off what Chari had been about to ask. She felt it built within her faster than it had when she was in the other realm. The power flowed through her, and for a moment, she thought she might pass out. But she remembered her uncle and how her father had never stopped teasing him. She forced herself to hold on, well aware that showing any weakness in her father’s presence was a bad idea. And when she finally thought she could take no more, Sheba’s voice pulled her back from the brink.

Congratulations. You have reached Level 5. New skill unlocked - Motivate. Leading a guild team has increased your ability to motivate those under your command, enhancing your parties abilities dependent upon their existing skills.

Congratulations. You have reached Level 6. New skill unlocked - Telepathy. It’s hard to lead if you can’t talk to your people, and silent communication can be useful.

Why now? I wasn’t doing anything that should level me.

While you were in the dungeon, you were cut off from me. That dungeon didn’t exist in normal space. I couldn’t award you levels, because I didn’t know what you’d been through. Only after you’d emerged, and I processed those memories, was I able to rectify the situation. Two levels is fair, considering how much you’ve learned in a very short time.

What do you mean that the dungeon wasn’t in normal space?

For a time, you left Thysandrika and traveled to a realm I have no ability to access. That’s all I can say about it for now. The new dungeons weren’t created by any method I understand. They simply appeared, fully formed. I can’t explain it.

Chari blinked. None of what Sheba had just told her made any sense at all. Of course, if it made no sense to the goddess, there wasn’t any reason why she should understand it.

Chari looked at Sart. “We’re the same level now.”

Sart looked confused. “I thought you were Level 4. You didn’t just gain two levels, did you?”

“I most certainly did.”

Sart shook his head. “How?”

“I guess it’s true what they say. Dungeons are a good way to speed level.”

*

Dahr sat in the back of the cart, staring off into space. Exhaustion had forced him to dismiss all the threads for the time being. He didn’t think anything could be gleaned from studying them more without leveling. And in order to level, George wanted his trust. How do you just decide to trust someone? Dahr didn’t think you could. But he could get to know George better. As soon as the thought popped into his mind, George was with him.

Something I can do for you?

Dahr thought his replies instead of speaking them. No one else needed to know about this conversation.

I want to understand. Why is it so important for me to trust you?

I have been around for a very long time, Dahr. Longer than you can begin to imagine. I am older than the gods, and for all that time I’ve roamed the Other Realm. The gods have followers. They have individuals they interact with. They interact with each other. I had no one. And for all eternity I had roamed the cosmos.

When I first saw you, you were an anomaly. Lying there in Eric’s dream, not yet awake, unclaimed by any god, I saw an opportunity and took it. I didn’t understand mortals back then. Most of what I learned about them I learned from you. You were the first Dahr. The only person I’d ever tethered, and I liked it. Because you were the first, I will always have a special place in my soul for you.

So I gave you a gift. The power you have isn’t a mortal power. No god would have given it to you, for gods have rules. But I don’t have those limitations. I gave you the skills I did because I want you to grow and prosper. You will be so powerful, Dahr. You could end up being the most powerful mortal on the planet.

Dahr thought about that. About being so powerful. About being feared and hated. People jealous of you. People pretending to be your friend in order to get something from you. He tried to imagine being like that. He tried to imagine being the kind of person that would want it and failed.

What if I don’t want to be powerful?

Dahr could sense George’s surprise.

Why would you not want to be powerful? Not that it matters. Right now, it is your power that will be needed to save Eric in the end. The forces arrayed against you are so vast , even with the power I give you, I estimate only a 50% chance of you and Eric both surviving. And I want you to survive Dahr. Without you I am alone. So desperately alone. Will you help me? Be there for me? I can’t afford to lose you, Dahr.

And there it was. The reason George wanted Dahr to trust him. Dahr could almost understand it. Imagine being alone for such a long time. It would have driven him insane.

One favor then. Tell me your real name.

I will, if you promise not to share it.

I promise.

My name is Telisian, and I am not a god. But I am powerful.

I know you are, Teli…do you mind if I still call you George? Your name is very long.

George is fine.

I will be your friend, George, for as long as I live, as long as you don’t betray me, or my other friends.

I want you all to survive what is to come.

Can you tell me about that?

I can not. To tell you would change the future, and becoming part of that loop, I would not be able to see the outcomes, and I could no longer protect you and your friends.

Dahr thought about that. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was true, but he was going to start believing what George said until he had evidence that he shouldn’t. He was about to ask when he might level, when he felt a sensation in the center of his being. It felt both blazing hot and icy cold. It consumed him from the inside and spread outwards. He realized through it that Eric was staring at him. Perhaps he could see the level flare. Then the euphoria struck him, and Dahr rode it like a wave. Eric went away, the cart went away, even his own body was no longer something that mattered. He could feel himself shifting, changing, becoming. A voice like that of an angelic demon, George’s voice, spoke in his mind.

You have reached Level 5, new skill unlocked, Thread Reader. So it begins.

A skill. For the first time, Dahr had gained a skill of his own. He thanked George, even though he now knew George wasn’t a god and then…he…found…himself…back in the cart.

Dahr was panting and sweating. He knew he hadn’t actually gone anywhere, that his perception had played tricks on him. He looked around. Eric was in the exact same position he’d been in when Dahr had seen him staring.

“That was something,” said Eric.

Dahr didn’t answer right away. He had heard the comment but was reluctant to let go of the feelings subsuming him.

“Don’t rush,” said Eric. “Enjoy it. I’m not sure we’ll always be in a position to do that.”

Dahr appreciated the words. Who knew where they’d be or the dangers they’d face. But it didn’t matter. Dahr wouldn’t have time to enjoy his progress. He had gained a new skill and didn’t know how long he had before he needed to know how to use it.

*

The first war council was necessarily small, since hardly anyone knew that war was coming. It consisted of the three new captains, Leata, King Terrence, Queen Treya, Queen Rhea, Veloran and Andeon Walsh, who was there as a representative of the Adventurer’s Guild. There were no maps out, nothing but refreshments set out on a table that had been placed against one of the throne room walls. There were no servants here, no guards. King Terrence wanted to keep the circle of who knew what was going on small, considering the possibility of a traitor in the palace.

“Thank you for coming. For those of you who were not present when it happened, Sheba, Iorana, Mitra, Sylinar, Se Karn and Sarith appeared together in the throne room. They chose me to be high king, to coordinate the allied forces against an undead army under the command of the Undead King. Queen Rhea has been chosen to be my ambassador. We have little time to devise a plan to take the fight back to the Undead King.”

Veloran at this point raised a hand, but he didn’t wait to be acknowledged to start speaking. “When you say take the battle to the Undead King, you don’t mean to fight him on Death’s Doorstep do you?”

“I do not. We’re going to take the fight into the Plains of Xarinos. We will find the Undead King’s castle and lay siege to it. We will defeat him once and for all.”

Terrence looked around the table, trying to read each of their expressions. Those that had been present for the god’s visit already knew this, but the others had expressions on their faces that ranged from denial to shock. No one had figured out a way to solve the undead problem, and yet, that was precisely what King Terrence was going to do. And it would cost them. He knew it. Everyone present knew it, just as they knew they had no choice. The gods had spoken. This was the only option open to them.

Silence followed. People looked at each other, then back to King Terrence, but no one knew what to say. Where was Chari when you needed her? Finally, the king spoke.

“For fifteen years, we’ve been his hostages, keeping our garrisons maintained, spending our resources, while he sits in his desolation and laughs at us. It can’t go on. It won’t go on. This isn’t something I decided lightly or even by myself. This is the will of the gods of order, who have chosen me to lead the world’s armies, and I will find a way. We will triumph, no matter the cost. We owe it to future generations to rid ourselves of this threat.”

Queen Rhea shook herself as if she had just woken up and finally spoke. “I need to start spreading the word to the other kingdoms. I need to know what I’m to say.”

“Whatever it is that gets them to commit. Remember, this is all or nothing. There’s no reason to hold back troops because if we fail, there will be nothing to come back to. The Undead King has fielded a huge army. The high priests in each kingdom will back you up. You shouldn’t have to say that much at all.”

King Terrence wondered what he must look like to them. Larger then life, still glowing. He didn’t recognize himself when he looked in the mirror. Did they still trust him? Did they still know him? How could he know if he was still himself after all this?

“Then I should leave now. There will be many kingdoms to visit.”

Terrence nodded. “Go. Whatever we figure out today will likely change a dozen times in the weeks ahead. But we have to start somewhere. Gods speed. Send a message spell when you reach your first destination.

“Of course, High King Terrence.”

Queen Rhea bowed and left the throne room. No one spoke until the door had closed behind her.

“The Adventurer’s Guild stands with the High King,” said Andeon Walsh. “I had some warning this was coming but didn’t trust or believe it. Now I do. Whatever you need from the Adventurer’s Guild, you have but to ask.”

Terrence gave him an assessing look. “You have the authority to speak for the other branches of the guild?”

“No, High King, but I assure you, there’s not a guild master in the entire system who would go against the will of the gods. With the number of high level adventurers in the guild, we depend on those gods for our power. As much as anyone, their fight is our fight.”

“Of course,” said the king. “Go now, and speak to the other guild leaders. No specifics except that the gods have called us to war, and that I’m going to be leading the armies. And no mention of entering the Plains of Xarinos.”

“As you wish, High King.”

With a bow, Andeon Walsh left the room.

“Where will the armies gather?” asked Queen Treya. “It’s going to be a lot of men.”

“I’ve thought about it, and I think Melar is the best place. We can cross to Final Hope from there by ship, but we’re going to need a lot of ships.”

“The chirkir seem to be on board, perhaps they can help take some of the weight off the navy by taking key people across separately,” said Veloran.

“Good idea,” said King Terrence. “It won’t make that much of a difference, but every little bit will help. Leata, I’m putting you in charge of logistics.”

“Sire?” she looked confused. “Surely there are people more qualified in that area than me.”

“Probably, but not people I know and trust. You’ll be keeping tabs on supplies and moving them to where they need to be.”

“I’d make a poor quartermaster from all the way back here.”

“Which is why you’ll be traveling with the army.”

Leata looked startled for the first time in anyone’s memory. “Your Highness…High King Terrence, this is too great a task for me.”

“You’re only worried about who will run the palace while you’re gone,” laughed Queen Treya.

Leata blushed, also for the first time in anyone’s memory. “No, it’s just that…okay yes. Maybe. I’ve worked long and hard to get the palace in the shape it is today. There’s no one qualified to run it in my absence.”

“Well you’d better find someone, because if we fail, I’m not sure there’ll be a palace to run,” said Terrence. “As I’ve already said, this is all or nothing. We all succeed or we all fail.”

Queen Treya frowned. “That’s exactly the type of situation where you can expect betrayal. One of our allies may make a deal with the Undead King.”

“And risk the wrath of the gods?” asked Terrence. “Who would do such a thing?”

Neither of them said it, but they both knew what the other was thinking. They should probably keep an eye on King Leonid, just in case.

*

Queen Rhea had just finished packing when there was a knock on her bed chamber doors. Normally servants would be helping her, but she was packing light and wanted time to think.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Jerish walked in.

“I thought you’d be with the king.”

Jerish bowed. “He asked me to stay behind to see to your needs.”

Rhea blushed a bit but hid it by turning away, focusing on the trunk she had already finished packing.

“Did he now?”

“He did, and here I am. Shall we talk about your needs, Your Highness.”

She turned to study him. Red-haired, young, thin…he wasn’t really much to look at, but there was absolutely something endearing about him, even when he spoke inappropriately to her. Perhaps especially when he spoke inappropriately.

“I need to get out of here. We have to get to the Adventurer’s Guild. Grab the trunk will you?”

He brushed past her as he went to pick it up. There could be no question that the contact was deliberate. What was he playing at?

“Jerish?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you know what my husband would do to you if he heard how you were speaking to me?”

Jerish had been about to pick up the trunk, but now he stopped, stood up to his full height and looked her directly in the eyes.

“Honestly, Your Highness, I don’t believe he would do anything at all.”

Queen Rhea studied him and knew he wasn’t lying, but still, she could make no sense of the statement.