An ear-splitting shriek ripped Lady Dimwater’s eyes open. Her vision was fuzzy, but she sensed that Silverfang was standing guard over her. The shriek came again. She rubbed her eyes and struggled to get to her knees. She was still lying on the floor of her study, where she had lost consciousness after battling Jerutho.

“Silverfang, what is it?” she asked. The wolf didn’t answer. It stood calmly next to her. It nuzzled her side, as if to comfort her. She pet the wolf reassuringly and clumsily stood on her feet. She snapped her fingers and a carafe of water appeared in the air before her, along with a simple glass. She took the items and filled the glass. She drained it quickly and repeated the process until the carafe was empty. The shriek came again. She put a hand to her head and moaned.

It was the call of the nighthawk, she realized. Her vision became clear and she forced through her weariness, running to the window. She looked up to the sky and saw the magical bird. It was almost the size of a dragon, with wings of gold and purple feathers. Its beak was turquoise, and even from her window she could see the golden eyes looking straight back at her. As the bird circled her tower it left a trail of dazzling colors, sparkling as glitter in the afternoon sunlight.

She looked down to the courtyard and saw many apprentices out for their afternoon lunch. None of them noticed the bird, but then that was to be expected. The nighthawk was only visible to the recipient of its call. No one else could see or hear it, not even the other wizard-professors in Kuldiga Academy.

Months ago, Lady Dimwater suggested to Lepkin that he should take the spell with him, in case he ever had need of her. He had laughed aloud when she had offered him the spell, she remembered. But she had made him promise to take the parchment with the instructions for casting the spell. She was relieved that he had apparently listened to her, but she shuddered to think what danger may have forced him to use it. She hoped that she would be able to help, despite her weakened state.

She quickly weaved a spell in front of her and called the nighthawk down to her window. As the bird lighted on the stone window sill, it shrank to the size of a normal hawk. It looked at her strangely for a moment and then relayed its message to her. Mental images of an arrow piercing Lepkin’s chest appeared in Lady Dimwater’s mind. She felt her heart break at that moment. She fell to her knees, overcome with grief. The next image brought with it the pain that Lepkin felt as he forced himself to concentrate through the pain of the arrow. Dimwater placed a hand to her chest and shed a tear, as though she had been the one struck.

She almost feared the rest of the nighthawk’s message, but it came anyway. Lady Dimwater saw visions of light and fire as Lepkin turned into a fierce dragon and battled a warlock and a horde of Blacktongues. She was shocked. She had not known that Lepkin was Dragon-born.

Lady Dimwater pushed that revelation aside and focused on the message. She didn’t want to miss anything. She was relieved to see that he was alive. Her heart danced at his victory, but her happiness was short lived. The next images came of the wound in his chest. She saw soiled bandages and the signs of infection. Lepkin was changing poultices on the wound, but he was losing the strength to walk. She saw images of the surrounding area, and then Lepkin closed his eyes. He lay feverishly on the ground, shaking and sweating. He needed healing, but he was far from help.

Lady Dimwater turned to the magical messenger once the images stopped. “I need to know where he is,” she said. “The images were not enough. You must show me.”

The bird bowed its head and leapt from the window sill. Up into the air it soared with a shrill cry. It grew back to its normal size, almost as big as a dragon. It gave another cry and then dove down for the tower window. She knew this was going to be a treacherous journey. The nighthawk was not meant as a means of transport. It was purely a messenger. Only the best of wizards could ever learn to ride them, as they were not made of solid bodies, but she knew there was no other choice. She couldn’t waste time by guessing where Lepkin was. He needed her now.

Lady Dimwater climbed onto the windowsill and leapt onto the magical bird’s back.

She sank into the bird slightly, but managed to stay on it as it soared over the courtyard and away from Kuldiga Academy. Dimwater squinted against the wind and clung tight to the fistfuls of feathers in her hand. She kept her head low and focused on riding the bird. She felt as though her stomach turned to lead as the bird ascended through the sky, gaining altitude faster and faster. The ground below her spun and became smaller. She clenched her jaw tightly and shut her eyes. She was accustomed to riding the wind on clouds of her own magical design, but she hated flying on the backs of nighthawks.

Every few minutes she would peek over the purple and gold wings to the ground below. The two of them flew high enough that she couldn’t make out any specific landmarks except for the mountains and dark green patches of ground she assumed were forests. At least they were going fast, she thought. In truth, the flight of the nighthawk was only marginally slower than using her magical portal device. Still, the trip seemed long enough as her stomach flipped and changed from feeling like lead to weightlessness and then back to being like lead. Dimwater was only all too happy to hear the bird shriek, signaling that they were going to descend.

She looked over the bird and saw the ground advancing toward her with blinding speed. For a moment she thought that the hills and valleys were going to jump up and swallow her like a great, earthen mouth. Then the nighthawk tilted its wings up, catching the wind and ripping them both out of the dive. Lady Dimwater almost fell through the bird as she momentarily lessened her focus, but she was quick to right herself and hold on.

At last, the nighthawk lighted on the ground and tilted down for Dimwater. She gladly left the bird and ran over to Lepkin. He lay near a dying fire, unconscious, but still alive. She knelt beside him and put the back of her left hand to Lepkin’s forehead. His fever was high. She could see the sweat building across his brow and upper lip. She gently wiped it away.

“I’m here,” she said softly. “Everything will be alright now.”

*****

Erik lay in his bed. He was careful not to make any noise, but he was far from sleep. There was much on his mind. The messenger falcons were coming in more frequently now, but Al never shared the news they brought. Even Marlin was acting strangely now during training sessions. The prelate would often come down and watch as well. There was something about the prelate that unnerved Erik. The prelate seemed hard and colder than before. He knew that it was probably all in his head, but he didn’t trust that man.

The midnight bell chimed. Erik slipped from his covers, dressed not in his bedclothes, but in a suit of black silk and soft leather shoes. Tonight, he was going to find out what message the falcons brought.

He crept to his door and put an ear to it. Satisfied that no one was outside he cracked the door open and looked around. He slipped out and started for the stairway. A thought came to him. What if the guards in the temple were able to hide themselves? Could they make themselves invisible? Erik figured that if Marlin could summon clones of himself then they might be able to hide themselves as well. In fact, Marlin had hidden himself before, and only allowed Erik to see a false Marlin back in the room with the gauntlet. Erik harnessed his power and then scanned the room again. Still, no one was there.

Erik nodded to himself and went to the stairs. He descended down quiet as a mouse, stopping only at the bottom to listen for any sign of activity. He held his breath and strained his ears against the night. He could hear two men talking. He focused his mind on the men’s voices, trying to locate them. After a moment he realized that they were outside. He poked his head around the wall and noticed that one of the windows in this room was open slightly, allowing the men’s voices to be heard.

He slipped off in the other direction, toward the window he had used before to access Al’s study. He peered out through the glass, but was dismayed to see a pair of guards walking the wall outside. He knew that it would be easy for them to see him, despite the darkness, if he tried to go through the window as he had before. He ducked down and crept back toward the main hall. He stopped at the corner and slowly knelt down, getting his head low to the floor before poking it around the corner of the wall. No one was in the hall.

He scurried over to the door of Al’s study, careful not to make any noise on the hard floor. He cautiously tried the door, but it was locked. He sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but he had prepared for it, just in case. He pulled a slim piece of metal from the inside of his left shoe, and then he grabbed another tool like it, except that it was hooked at the end, from his right shoe. A twinge of guilt came over him as he slipped the tools into the keyhole. He had promised Master Fink, one of the staff members at his old orphanage, that he would never pick locks anymore.

“It isn’t proper,” Master Fink had said.

Erik had given the man his word that day. He promised never to pick locks or steal any more. It was one of the conditions of being allowed to stay in the orphanage after Erik had been caught stealing from the kitchen. Erik knew that without Master Fink’s help, he never would have been adopted at all, much less by a nobleman. Erik paused, hesitating to use his lockpick set. No, Erik thought. His adopted father was in trouble, and those messages might give Erik information he needed to help him. So, despite his guilt he twisted and turned his tools in the lock. It was necessary to break his promise.

The lock clicked and Erik knew the door would open now. He slipped his left hand to the doorknob and twisted, keeping his right hand on the tools still in the keyhole. The door opened silently. Erik removed his tools and snuck inside, closing the door behind him. He checked all around, making sure Al had not decided to spend the night in the study to keep Erik from finding the messages. Next he looked to the big window at the back of the room. The curtains were drawn over the glass, making the room extra dark. Erik didn’t care. He knew where he was going. There was a small letter box on the desk near the window. That was where Al kept the messages.

Erik turned and locked the door to the study, just in case anyone walked by to check locks at night, and then made his way to the desk. He walked slowly so as not to bump anything. He had only been in the room three times, and only one of those times was he actually invited in. His other two attempts to gain information had failed. He was caught going through the window by Al, and one of the guards had caught him snooping around a couple days after that. He wouldn’t be caught this time, he knew. The third time’s the charm.

He bumped the desk lightly with his leg and then started feeling around for the letterbox. His hand felt the metal box after a few swipes over the desk. He seized it and brought it to his chest. He knelt down, with his back resting on the desk and went to work on the lock. It was a little more difficult than the door, but he got it in a couple of minutes. The latch popped open and the box creaked as Erik lifted the lid. He reached his hand in and found only a single piece of paper. Maybe Al had disposed of the other messages? Erik wasn’t sure what was going on. His curiosity overrode his sense of caution. He struck a match and held it close to the paper.

The flare blinded him for a moment. He squinted against the sudden light until his eyes adjusted, and then he read the words on the paper aloud to himself. “Nice try, Erik,” he read. He crumpled the paper and shoved it into the box. He blew the match out and set the box back on the desk. He almost lost control completely, but he stuffed down the urge to yell when the doorknob across the room rattled. Erik sucked in a breath and crawled around the desk. He hid in the cavity underneath and waited. The rattling stopped and then he heard footsteps walking away from the door.

“Just checking the lock,” Erik told himself. He moved to slide out from under the desk but his head struck something hard and sharp. He sucked on his tongue to keep from crying out. He gently stuck his hand up and felt around for what had hit him. His fingers found a metal corner protruding from above him. “That’s strange,” Erik mused. He knew the desk was made purely of wood. So what was this?

He cupped his left hand around a new match, trying to dim the flare as he struck it. His eyes widened with glee when he saw another letterbox, attached to the underside of the desk. He blew out the match and set to work on the lock. Within a minute he had the thing open and a flurry of papers assaulted him from above as they fell out over him. He chuckled softly to himself and gathered the papers up. He needed to light another match to read with, but he didn’t want to risk the flare being seen through the window. He crawled back around the desk and put his back against it.

The match hissed as it brought forth its flame and bathed the papers in its yellowy light. His eyes scoured the messages hungrily. The first few were simple updates about Master Lepkin. Al had already told Erik about the meeting with the Lievonian Order, so Erik tossed those messages aside. He saw a few messages from Al’s apprentice, back in Buktah. The man complained about having been charged more than usual when buying supplies and being paid less than usual when customers picked up their orders from him. Erik wondered if the man ever stopped complaining to Al.

Then he found a most disturbing letter. The broken seal was that of House Lokton. It spoke of the magistrate’s murder, and warned that Erik should stay away from the area. The next letter spoke of Timon Cedreau’s murder, and that a blood feud had started between the two houses. This one also warned that Erik should stay away. Erik let his head thump back against the desk with an exasperated sigh.

Slowly he sifted through the remaining letters. The rest were all different from the first two from House Lokton. They all declared that House Lokton and House Cedreau were going to war with each other, and beckoned for Erik to return and help his father, as was his duty. They also implored Master Lepkin to return with Erik, and help in the fight.

Erik was confused. None of the letters said explicitly who had murdered the magistrate or Timon. They had only implied certain people. The magistrate was killed with a dagger belonging to Eldrik Cedreau, and Timon was killed by an arrow that belonged to Mr. Stilwell. Erik remembered Lord Cedreau’s intrusion during his Konn Deta. He then thought about the serious threat Lord Cedreau had given after Erik had chosen Goliath to be his horse. He knew full well the consequences that Timon’s death was going to create. Lord Cedreau would not back down now until Lord Lokton was dead.

“Oh no,” Erik gasped. Now he knew what Tukai’s prophecy meant. Lord Lokton was going to die in this blood feud with House Cedreau. It was not exactly what he had envisioned when he first heard the warlock say that he would kill his father. He had thought that the prophecy claimed he would do it with his own hand. But then again, it may as well have been a blow of his own hand. Erik had broken Timon’s hand. It was this injury that caused Lord Cedreau to intrude upon Erik’s Konn Deta. It was there that the magistrate stepped in and further humiliated Lord Cedreau by awarding one of House Cedreau’s prized war horses to Erik. And it was Erik who had sealed his father’s fate by taking the horse that Lord Cedreau had intended for one of his own sons.

Erik’s head was spinning. His stomach twisted into knots of guilt and pain. His eyes welled with tears. He couldn’t let this happen. Not because of him. He got to his feet and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He walked toward the door, determined to escape into the night and save his father.

*****

“The boy is running away,” one of the temple guards said.

“I can see for myself,” Marlin replied. “We will let him go.”

“What do you mean?” the guard asked. “The prelate has given orders that the boy is never to leave the grounds. He is not allowed out until after he has taken the Exalted Test of Arophim.”

Marlin looked down from the wall at Erik. The boy was creeping along the outside of the wall toward the stable. His aura was far too bright for the boy to be able to sneak away undetected. Marlin could see many emotions swirling through Erik’s energy. He saw pain, anger, hurt, feelings of betrayal, guilt, and shame. Yet, deep in the center of the aura was the same bright, white light. It was bigger than before. It now seemed to burn within the whole area of the boy’s chest. This gave Marlin hope. “The prelate is not here, and you will defer to me,” Marlin told the guard.

“The prelate will hear of this,” the guard replied. “I can not allow you to disobey him. You put all of us at risk. That boy is to be-” the guard’s words caught in his throat.

Marlin gripped the man’s shoulder tighter than a snake coiling around a prized mouse. A stream of energy flowed from Marlin’s hand into the guard’s aura. The guard slumped down to the stone floor of the battlement. Marlin released his grip on the guard after he was sure the man was completely unconscious. “No one shall be forced to undergo the Test of Arophim,” Marlin quoted the commandment of the Father of the Ancients through gritted teeth.

Marlin looked back down to the stable and saw a pair of auras, bright and strong, approaching Erik. “Erik shall not be kept here as a prisoner,” Marlin muttered. He sprang down from the battlement and soared down toward the ground. A couple of seconds before impact, Marlin called upon the energy of the grass and dirt below. The ground itself answered Marlin’s call and sent a cushion of energy up to meet him, catching him softly and allowing him to land without injury. Marlin thanked the grasses and then ran to Erik.

“Erik,” Marlin whispered quickly. “Come with me.”

Erik turned around and anger flashed through his aura. “I will not go back,” Erik hissed. “Not for you or anyone else.”

“No, Erik, I know that,” Marlin said with his empty hands out to his sides. “I have come to help you escape. Those two guards have orders not to let you out. Follow my lead and play along, if you wish to leave.”

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The anger in Erik’s aura held strong, but peace and hope ran through it. Finally Erik nodded and stood away from the wall. “As you say,” Erik relented.

The two guards were upon them an instant later. “Erik is not allowed to leave the grounds,” one of them said.

“Yes, I know the prelate’s orders,” Marlin replied, keeping his voice calm and authoritative. “I have just barely found him, and was about to take him back inside. Al is waiting to give the boy a good tongue lashing.”

“He needs more than that,” the first guard replied. “The boy should learn some discipline. This is not a game.”

“No, it isn’t,” Marlin said. “This is very serious.” Marlin stepped closer to Erik and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. For a moment, he thought to transfer some of his energy to Erik, to strengthen the boy, but he knew that the guards would be able to see the changes in their auras. “I suppose we could discipline him a little ourselves,” Marlin said.

“What did you have in mind?” the first guard asked. Marlin could see a tinge of delight ripple through the guard’s aura. The second guard stood quiet. His aura did not show any sign of delight at the prospect of punishing Erik. In fact, it showed a slight hint of compassion for the boy. Marlin seized upon it.

“Do you disagree?” Marlin asked, pointing to the second guard.

“With respect,” the second guard started. “I do not think it is right for him to be held here like some criminal. This is a temple, not a prison.”

“Ah,” Marlin said with a mocking tone. “What is your name?”

“I am Tegeruk,” the second guard replied.

“Tell me Tegeruk, have you been with the order long? I do not know you.”

“I have been on night watch for three years now,” Tegeruk said with a bow of his head.

“And you think that you understand the ways of our order better than the prelate?”

Tegeruk’s aura showed signs of fear and caution for just a moment. Then a flash of hope and courage ran through the man’s energy. “I may be wrong, but I believe that the words of the Ancients are to be heeded, and I have not heard anything that says we have the right to force someone into service.”

“You would disobey the prelate?” the first guard hissed menacingly.

“What is your name?” Marlin asked, turning to the first guard.

“I am Mageddi,” the first guard said with a bow. “I stand ready to follow all orders of the prelate, without question.”

“I see.” Marlin rubbed his chin with his left hand and looked back to Erik. He could see the confusion running through Erik’s energy. Marlin knew he had to act now, or else Erik’s aura might give them away. “Tegeruk,” Marlin began authoritatively. “I am ordering you now, in the name of the Ancients, to help Erik escape.”

Tegeruk and Mageddi stood motionless for a moment. Marlin could tell by their auras that neither had expected this. Marlin didn’t wait. He seized the moment, rushing forward and striking out with his right foot to Mageddi’s abdomen.

“Run, Erik!” Marlin ordered. Erik sprinted off toward the stable.

Mageddi came around with his fist, connecting with Marlin’s forearm as the more experienced man blocked the guard’s blow. Tegeruk joined in at that moment and slammed his fists into Mageddi’s side. Each punch held with it a ball of Tegeruk’s energy. The energy rippled through Mageddi’s aura and knocked him to the side several feet away. Marlin relentlessly came at Mageddi and seized the man. He clapped his hands to either temple and sent a wave of energy through Mageddi that paralyzed the guard.

Tegeruk came up fast to finish Mageddi off, but Marlin held up a hand. “No, we will not kill our own brothers,” Marlin said. “It is enough now. He can no longer threaten Erik.”

“As you wish,” Tegeruk said with a bow. “Shall we go with the boy?”

“You will,” Marlin said solemnly. “I will stay here and wait for the prelate. He will not be pleased.”

“I will stay with you,” Tegeruk offered.

Marlin shook his head. “No, you will not. The punishment for you would be death.”

“What will happen to you?” Tegeruk asked.

“If I had followed the prelate’s orders, I would already be dead,” Marlin replied. “At least now my spirit shall soar to the Halls of the Ancients, and I shall not be ashamed.”

“Fools,” Mageddi growled. “Without the Champion of Truth, we are all doomed to death.”

Marlin reached down and sent another wave of power through Mageddi. “Be silent, brother.” Mageddi went completely rigid and said no more. “Go with Erik. Protect him on his journey home. He has decided not to take the Test of Arophim, and that wish must be granted to him, whatever the cost.”

“As you say,” Tegeruk replied.

Marlin watched the temple guard rush to the stable. A few moments later he saw Erik and Tegeruk riding away. He smiled to himself when he saw that Erik’s aura was growing more intense. The boy truly had a gift. Marlin hoped that Erik would learn to master it in time to save the rest of them. Marlin turned back to regard the paralyzed guard at his feet. His mind told him that Mageddi was right. Without the test, Erik could not become the Champion of Truth and they would all be lost to the darkness that was to come. Marlin sighed. He knew that Erik would have perished if he had taken the test. The gift in him was too strong, and still too wild. Either way, they would be left without the Champion of Truth. Marlin’s heart told him he had done right in letting Erik go, but his mind whispered that he had just doomed the entire realm to the service of the shadows.

*****

Lady Dimwater and Master Lepkin stepped through the magic portal. “Can you stand?” she asked.

“I am good,” Master Lepkin replied weakly. Dimwater nodded. She had spent the rest of yesterday afternoon and all of the night weaving spells to heal Lepkin. Because she was weakened by her recent encounter with Jerutho, she was unable to heal him completely, but she restored enough of his energy to bring him out of his sleep, and to be strong enough to travel through the magical portal.

“We are here, at Valtuu Temple,” Lady Dimwater said. “The healers will help you.” The two of them walked up to the main door of the wall and it opened slightly.

“We have been expecting you,” a guard said. He held a large shaft with a curved, wide blade on top with a steel point on the bottom of the shaft. “I can see to him, but you can not come in.”

Lady Dimwater regarded the man curiously. “You mean, because I am a woman?” she asked.

The guard shook his head. “You and I both know the answer. I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you in.”

“This time, you will make an exception,” Master Lepkin said hoarsely.

“Sir, she will defile the temple. I cannot allow it.”

“Those who seek the book will defile and destroy not only the temple, but also the rest of this realm. I am the Keeper of Secrets, my word is law. I stand even above the prelate of your order. You will let her in or I will take your head.” Master Lepkin stood as erect as he could, trying to appear able to make good on his threat. He reached to the hilt of his sword and paused, looking at the guard.

“As you say,” the guard replied through his teeth.

Master Lepkin and Lady Dimwater walked through the gate. The guard walked behind them slowly, waving other guards off as they tried to bar Dimwater from entering. Lepkin made doubly sure that they all understood by keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword.

They entered the front door of the temple and a man in white, silken robes greeted them. He smiled to Lepkin, but when he saw Dimwater his mouth fell agape and his expression turned most sour. “What is this?” he hissed.

“She is here at my command,” Lepkin coughed. “I trust no other to help me.” The man nodded slowly, but his scowl didn’t disappear. “Where is Marlin?” Lepkin asked.

“He is in the council chamber, on trial for heresy,” the man replied with a shrug.

“What?” Lepkin asked. Some of his strength returned to him at the news.

“There is much to explain. Follow me, I will take you to our healers and then you may speak with the prelate after the hearing is concluded.”

“No, I will attend the hearing,” Lepkin said. The man turned to protest, but Lepkin slid his sword free a few inches. “You will take us there now,” Lepkin threatened. The man was visibly shaken at the threat. He nodded quickly and led them to the chamber.

Lepkin didn’t look at any of the murals or decorations. He had only one thing on his mind. Whatever Marlin was being accused of, he had to save the man. Dimwater seemed to understand the severity of the situation as well. She walked rigidly, her head on a swivel at all times, looking for any threat as they passed through the halls. At the end of the hall the man in white shooed away two guards and pushed open the door to the council chamber.

They entered the chamber amidst gasps of horror and murmurs of defilement. “May I present Master Lepkin, Keeper of Secrets,” the man said. Lepkin didn’t miss the fact that the man refused to announce Lady Dimwater’s presence. He would tend to that insult later. He took in the room quickly and noticed that Al and Erik were also present, as well as another guard that he didn’t recognize who stood next to Marlin.

The room was circular, with the main floor, the space for the accused to stand, being the lowest point in the room. The prelate sat upon a raised bench that overlooked the entire room and ten other seats flanked him, also set up on a dais. These seats were filled with higher ranking members of the order, but one seat remained empty. The seat for the bishop, second only to the prelate, was empty. It was Marlin’s seat, Lepkin knew. Behind the main floor was a slightly raised dais, though not nearly so high as the prelate’s seat or even the other ten seats for the tribunal members. This is where the common members of the order were allowed to stand and watch the trial.

Lepkin pointed to the floor. “We will go and stand there,” he said to Dimwater.

“As you wish,” she said with a nod.

The murmuring grew louder as the two of them pushed through the spectators and walked out onto the floor. The members of the tribunal all glanced to each other worriedly at the sight of Lepkin and Dimwater.

“How dare you defile the temple?” the prelate shouted from his seat at Lepkin. “This is a holy site. It is dedicated to the Ancients and those who serve them. You can not simply walk in here with trash from the street. I don’t care if you have feelings for her or not.”

Master Lepkin took the prelate’s words silently. He looked to each of the others on the floor, without even acknowledging that the prelate had spoken to him. He could see that Marlin had been beaten. His face was puffy, and the rope that bound his wrists made his forearms bulge. The guard next to him seemed in worse shape. Erik had dried tears on his cheeks, and was also restrained, though Lepkin could see that his wrists were not tied so tightly. Al stood next to them, unbound, but apparently on the defense with the rest of them.

Lepkin drew his sword, slowly. He wanted all eyes on him. The murmuring stopped. Lepkin stepped toward Marlin and cut the man’s bindings. Marlin nodded his thanks and rubbed his arms. Lepkin then cut Erik free and turned the boy around. “Is this other guard a friend?” Lepkin asked, motioning with his chin to Tegeruk. Erik nodded. Master Lepkin set him free as well.

“Who do you think you are?” the prelate roared. “You have no right to defile the temple and then set loose others who would have sealed our doom if left to their own devices.”

“I am the Keeper of Secrets,” Master Lepkin boomed. His strength buoyed by his anger. In Lepkin’s mind there were no better men than Marlin and Al, and Erik had never let him down before, no matter how hard he had pushed the boy. “I will ask the questions, and you will answer me,” Lepkin said to the prelate and others sitting around him.

“You forget, Keeper,” the prelate replied, his words dripping with malice. “We are appointed by the Ancients to appoint the Keepers. That makes you subordinate to us. I will decide the fate of these men, your boy included.”

“You twist the words of the Ancients, and their intentions,” Lepkin replied. “They appointed this order to find and appoint the Keepers that much is true. But the Keeper is set above this order. The Keeper is the agent of the Ancients themselves. My word, though uttered from a human mouth, is to be heeded as the law of the Father of the Ancients.”

The prelate straightened in his chair, scowling all the while at Lepkin. “Your candidate has tried to flee from this temple,” the prelate said. “He shirked his duty, his obligation to take the Exalted Test of Arophim. He willingly doomed us all to death. Marlin, ex-bishop of our order, and Tegeruk helped him escape. It took many of my guards to bring them back.”

“How did you discover they were missing?” Master Lepkin asked.

“Your dwarf noticed that Erik was not in his bed, and he sounded the alarm.”

“Master Lepkin, I only tried to-”

“Be silent!” the prelate ordered. “You will not speak unless I authorize it.

Master Lepkin turned to Al and nodded his head. “I will hear you speak, good dwarf,” Lepkin said. He noticed that the prelate opened his mouth to speak, but Lepkin let his sword ignite. The flames lent an eery quality to Lepkin’s angry face. The display of power was enough to stay the prelate’s protests.

“To explain in as few words as possible,” Al began. “I have been receiving messages from House Lokton lately. The nature of the messages was grim. House Lokton and House Cedreau have fallen into a blood feud. I have tried to keep the letters away from Erik, but last night he found them. I worried only for his safety, and that is why I sounded the alarm, I had nothing to do with the prelate’s order to keep Erik here.”

“Thank you, Al,” Master Lepkin said with a nod. He mulled the words over in his head. For a moment he found it hard to concentrate. He felt a sweat break out on his forehead, but he knew he had to press on. He could not show any sign of weakness, or the prelate would control this trial. Lepkin turned to Marlin next. “Tell me of the prelate’s order to keep Erik here,” Lepkin said.

“I have been training Erik in preparation for the Exalted Test of Arophim,” Marlin began. “He shows great promise. He is the best I have ever seen, or even heard of. But, I am afraid that his power is too strong. Without the proper amount of training, the test will kill him.”

“The test only kills those who are evil,” the prelate interrupted.

Master Lepkin turned and pointed his fiery blade at the prelate. “You will be silent.” The prelate paled and sat back in his chair. Lepkin held his threatening gaze on the prelate for a moment before letting Marlin continue.

“Normally, the test punishes only those with evil in their hearts. Sometimes, however, the test can kill without finding wickedness in the heart of the one tested. The test awakens the full ability of the individual. It is something that has to be done in order to search the individual’s heart. In Erik’s case, the gift is so strong that awakening it fully will literally rip him apart. If I had a few more years to train him, I think he could master it and take the test with minimal risk, but there would still be a significant danger even then. I could not, in good conscience, force him to undertake the test while he is still raw. The time we have spent together has not been even a fraction of the time required for him to be properly trained.” Marlin’s glossy eyes filled with tears.

“Did you inform the prelate of this?” Lepkin asked.

“I did, but he said that should Erik refuse to take the test, he would be forced against his will,” Marlin replied. “Even if I could go against the laws of the Ancients and compel someone to take the test, I could not resign Erik to death.”

“I have heard enough,” Master Lepkin said with a nod. The fire around his sword roared and crackled, dripping liquid fire onto the floor, scorching the marble with a hiss. “I am Dragon-born, as all Keepers have been. As such, I wield the power to remove the head of the order when I see fit to do so. Now is such a time. I command the prelate to step down from his bench.”

“This has never been done before,” one of the high priests of the tribunal called out. “This is not something that can be done out of spite, Keeper.”

“It is not spite that I hold in my heart,” Master Lepkin said. “There is a war coming. The armies of righteousness will need competent generals. Therefore, I am making a change. You may also step down, high-priest. I have no need of you either.” Murmuring rippled through the entire room.

“I will remind you that in order to win this war you speak of, we need the Champion of Truth,” the prelate growled. “Even the Keeper will fall to the powers of the book. You know this.”

Lepkin nodded soberly. “No one can be forced to become the Champion, just as no one can be forced to become the Keeper.” Lepkin looked to Erik and smiled faintly. “Many years ago, I was stationed at Gelleirt monastery. My duty was to guard the trio of elderly monks that lived there, and above all, a collection of books that they had been translating for more than half a decade. It was a boring assignment. Nothing like the missions I had been given before. Still, I remained because of my sense of duty. Because I chose to stay.

“One day, I received a written notice of challenge. Master Orres had challenged me for the right to Lady Dimwater’s hand in marriage. If there was ever a reason to pull me away from my duty, this was it. I gathered my belongings and rode away from Gelleirt monastery. The monks pleaded with me to stay. They said their work was most important. I did not listen to them. I was almost a mile away before I stopped on a tall hill to ponder my actions. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the guilt that nagged at me for leaving. As I looked back to the monastery, I saw a horde of Tarthun horsemen galloping straight for it.

“I had two choices. I could go on as though I had not seen the horde. After all, there were far too many for me to defeat, and I was too far away to help the monks escape. They would likely be slain before I could return to warn them.” Master Lepkin turned to Lady Dimwater and saw the tears in her eyes. “I desperately wanted to continue on my way to meet Master Orres. Lady Dimwater and I had fallen in love previous to my assignment at Gelleirt monastery. We had discussed marriage many times, but she had been promised to Orres by her father. I pleaded with Orres to call off the engagement, but he would not. He claimed I had insulted his honor. After a heated argument, he accepted my offer to duel for her hand, but he said that he would choose the time and place. Master Orres had no way of knowing that Gelleirt monastery would be attacked when he issued the challenge.

“My decision to return and fight the horde has been one that I have secretly regretted all of my life. Yes, I saved the monks and the monastery. I slew all three hundred men by my sword. My deeds at Gelleirt monastery earned me both fame, and ultimately the invitation to become the next Keeper of Secrets after my predecessor had grown old. Though these should be things to be proud of, I am not. My battle at Gelleirt monastery robbed me of the right to fight for my love’s hand. Because I failed to show for Orres’ challenge, I lost all right to court Lady Dimwater.

“As I trained to become the next Keeper I learned all of the rights and responsibilities that that office would entail. One of the things I found most interesting was that I would become Dragon-born. I was to be imbued with the ability to shift into a dragon, if need be. This granted me not only physical strength to fight the forces of evil, but also the right to preside over all matters of this order. The Keeper who trained me explained that I should never again shirk my duties, as I almost had at the monastery. I would forever be in a position that required the highest standards of honor. I wanted to say no, but because I had already lost all claim to Lady Dimwater, and because my predecessor was near unto death, I agreed to become the next Keeper.

“I forced the grief of losing Dimwater out of my mind by devoting myself to my duties. My life since then has been one of total dedication.” Lepkin turned to look at the prelate. “Now that I am the Keeper, it is my responsibility to ensure that this order is run properly. You claim that I defile the temple by bringing Lady Dimwater inside, but it is you who have defiled the temple. You have twisted the laws!

“I will not allow Erik to undergo the Exalted Test of Arophim. The law of the Ancients is clear on this matter. No candidate shall ever be forced into the test. To compel someone would pervert the test. What you fail to understand is that even if he succeeded, his heart would not be pure unless he chose to take the test of his own free will. So, even if he lived through it, he would not pass, and we would still be without a champion.” Master Lepkin’s eyes turned cold and he leapt up to grab the prelate by the collar, pulling him over the front of the bench and glaring into the man’s darkened eyes. He leaned in close so that only the prelate would hear his next words. “And I will not let you take his family from him, as my love was taken from me, by forcing duty upon him without regard for his desires. You will step down.” Master Lepkin yanked the prelate over and flung the man to the floor. The prelate landed hard, flailing about in his robes like an overturned beetle.

“This is an outrage!” the prelate roared. “You have gone mad!”

Lepkin pointed to Marlin. “This is the new prelate of the order. Marlin is now the head of Valtuu Temple. His wisdom and strict sense of morality is an example for all of you to follow.” Lepkin turned to the guard next to Marlin. “You also helped Erik and Marlin. That means that you also honor the laws of the Ancients. You are the new bishop. Both of you take your places.”

“This cannot be done!” the prelate shouted. He reached forward and grabbed the back of Master Lepkin’s neck. Lepkin felt a rush of pain in his head, threatening to cripple him. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it disappeared. The prelate wailed in agony, grabbing his own head.

“I warned you,” Lepkin said. “My word is supreme in this temple.” Lepkin turned to the others watching. “Let this be a warning to any who would seek to pervert the ways of the Ancients.” Lepkin pointed to the prelate. “I pray that the new prelate will see to it that the laws are always honored.”

“I will,” Marlin replied with a humble bow of his head. “This order recognizes the Keeper of Secrets as the agent of the Ancients. We will heed your counsel always.”

Master Lepkin nodded. “There is still a vacancy in the tribunal,” Lepkin said as he pointed back to the high-priest he had also told to step down. The high priest immediately scrambled out of his chair and knelt before Lepkin. “The new prelate shall pick a replacement that is honorable.”

Marlin nodded and bowed again.

“I will step down, as you have asked, but allow me to stay in the temple?” the high-priest pleaded.

“I will let the new prelate decide your fate,” Lepkin replied. Lepkin pointed to the ex-prelate with his flaming sword. “I want this man cut off from the temple. Get him out of my sight.” A pair of guards rushed in and swept the ex-prelate away. He was still moaning and grabbing his head as he was taken out.

“What has the Keeper decided about the test, and of Erik’s family?” Marlin asked.

“The test will have to wait,” Lepkin decided.