They loaded me into the covered wagon for a tense ride back into town. As the morning rays broke over the horizon, Castille and Dugan lifted me by stretcher through the Pit’s doors and up to their room. They set me down on the bed next to Thor. The pack animal had slept through everything.

Lucky him.

They disappeared out of view, leaving me alone with my thoughts… and Isla. She pulled up one of the side table's chairs next to the bed to watch over my rigid body.

Hours passed until knuckles rapped on the bedroom door.

"Who is it?"

“It’s me. Castille."

Isla pushed her chair back and shuffled out of view, clutching her black staff close to her body.

The door creaked open, and the footfalls of two or more people stamped towards me.

If only I could lift my head.

Something tapped my foot—the tip of a finger traced its way up my thigh.

Reed…

She loomed over me, her half-lidded eyes fixed on my frozen face.

"Oh, I could get used to this."

"We brought you here to fix him, not tease him, Inquisitor," Castille said.

Reed smirked, smiling at someone at the foot of the bed.

"Why not both?"

She unbuttoned the black, double-breasted jacket of her uniform.

What kind of fix did she have in mind?

The jacket swung open. Her torso was wrapped in lavender cloth that rippled and writhed.

It shot into the air in a flurry of fabric, swirling on the ceiling until it took a familiar, human shape.

Isla gasped; something wooden clattered on the floor.

Shay?!

He towered over me at his full height, his head almost brushing the ceiling. A bemused smile curled his full lips.

"You're in quite the mess, child."

"UH UHHH!"

He let out a deep and throaty laugh.

"Knowing is half the battle."

"Enough talk. Can you fix him or not, revenant?" Castille asked.

"A revenant?!" Isla said.

"He can fix him. Shay, please proceed," Reed said.

He leaned over the bed, inspecting me like an ill-fitting suit. His long, silky black hair slid off his shoulders to frame his face.

"I could do it, but I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, my dear apprentice, you need me at full strength."

Apprentice?! Reed is Shay's apprentice? When did that happen?

Reed looked up at the immortal tailor, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I hate that you're right."

"Get used to it."

He pointed his chin at me.

"Now, you do it. You need the practice.”

Hey! Did I get a say?

“UHH AH UHUHHH!”

He laughed.

“You’ll be fine. I trained her myself.”

Reed stalked to the head of the bed and crouched down until her mouth was next to my ear. She inhaled, hesitated and then whispered.

“Liber…”

The stiffness in my muscles melted away.

I gasped, sucking in my first deep breath in hours.

Pain blossomed in my chest. I doubled over, groaning from my bruised ribs. Thor cracked open an eye and let out an annoyed grunt at his noisy bedmate.

Everything… HHHUUURRRTTT!!!

From my dry, red eyes to my left shoulder fixed to keep my sword arm raised in the air.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I dropped my weapon onto the bed, rolling on my side and curling into myself.

"Dugan," Castille said.

"Right."

Dugan moved past Shay and Reed, resting his thick fingers against my temple to begin his healing.

I melted into the bed, letting the warm, soothing energy flow into me.

Spirits below! Finally, relief.

With tired, bloodshot eyes, I watched Reed fall back into Isla's chair, wincing and rubbing the side of her head. Shay fluttered to her side. He crouched low until his face was level with hers. In my drunken daze, I strained my ears.

"I used too much will," she whispered.

"The first time is always the hardest, apprentice. If you’re running low, use your will well.”

"Yes, mother,” Reed said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He chuckled under his breath.

“Don’t complain if you don’t want advice. Although, I am impressed. He has a strong will, and his body hums with enchantment."

"Don't all Landbound?"

"No, this is different. He has a second enchantment passed down from an ancestor—possibly a parent."

"Interesting... That could be useful."

"Reed! What are you talking about over there?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just you.”

She smiled and then straightened in the chair, her appearance turning formal.

"Castille mentioned your adventure into the Mountains. What happened?"

I passed glances from Dugan to Castille. The same question was in our eyes and the tips of our tongues.

Can we trust her?

As much I hated the Sanctifiers, Reed had been honest with me. She was awful but predictably awful, and right now, we needed that reliability.

I scanned for Isla’s face in the people looking at me. She was off to the side, staring at Shay with awestruck eyes.

He had that effect.

Castille shrugged.

"Well, we needed reinforcements. Let’s tell her."

# # #

Reed thrummed the armrest of the chair with her fingertips. As we explained what we saw under the Mountain, her eyebrows knit closer and closer together. Behind her eyes, a thousand plans were unravelling or falling into place. With Sanctifiers, who could tell which was which? In one abrupt motion, she shot up from the chair and marched across the room, waving Isla aside before tearing open the bedroom door. One of her black-clad servants stood at attention.

"Special Inquisitor?"

"Send messengers to the cartel leaders. The mines are shut down until further notice. There will be a meeting here in the afternoon. Invite all members of the Steeltown Compact."

"B-But, Special Inquisitor, we can't shut down the mines!"

Reed cocked her head, and the colour drained from the servant’s face. I couldn’t see the Inquisitor’s expression, but whatever the servant saw chilled him to the bone.

"WE can do whatever WE want.”

Reed slammed the door before the man could respond. Her shoulders slumped for a moment before pulling back as she fixed her posture. So even the Special Inquisitor had a breaking point. I would laugh if we weren’t in the same wagon.

Reed turned to face us. She was like a pillar of marble, her face etched with resolve. Was it focus or conviction that gave her such a strong will?

"Jacob, I would like you and your party to come to the meeting."

I pushed myself up against the headboard, brushing aside Dugan's meaty hand.

"You know something, Reed. What aren't you telling us?”

I pointed to Shay.

“And what's a revenant?! Castille, you seem to know."

The Northern woman frowned, crossing her arms.

"It's something I’ve seen at the border—soldiers that keep fighting after getting run through by spears and swords."

My stomach sank. Old images of Lord Severn flashed through my mind. The way he stood up after Sin slashed his throat… The way he was able to launch one final attack.

She nodded at Shay.

"This one gives me the same shivers. He's somewhere between the living and dead."

Shay flashed a smug smile.

"A simplistic explanation but correct. I am a revenant, but there is a world of difference between me and a common soldier.”

He turned to Isla.

"You, child. What are the three pillars of will?"

Isla took a step back.

“Oh... Um... Focus, power, and conviction. Focus for the mind, power for the body and conviction for the spirit."

Shay nodded along.

"Correct. If your conviction is strong enough, you can persist after the death of your body. It's no surprise that you've seen revenants at the border, warrior. Surviving the No Man's Land between the two countries requires a strong will, and revenge is a powerful motivator."

"But revenants are temporary. They pass on in hours—sometimes days,” Isla said. She looked away, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “At least, that's what the books say."

"No, child. You’re correct. Conviction is fickle by nature. You need a strong goal to persist without a living vessel. All it takes is one moment of doubt to lose your will and have your quintessence spill from your body. Very few persist longer than a day."

"Then how have you lived for hundreds of years?" I asked.

"I have a strong goal, and I cheat."

"Cheat?"

"Will wells," Reed said, rolling up her right sleeve to reveal the golden bracer she wore during her training.

Isla’s eyes bugled.

"I knew that was a will well! Can I touch it?!"

Reed eyed the enthusiastic girl with a suspicious glance.

"My pleasure."

Isla took timid steps to the Inquisitor, wrapping her hands around Reed’s wrist.

“It’s warm!”

Shay nodded.

"The elves have cherished gold since before they descended to the Abyssal Lands. It symbolizes perfection and, among its many qualities, is a sensitivity to will. Through Enchantment, we can create will wells that store our unused will for later use. That will is the warmth you feel, child. The warmth of enchanted gold."

Shay raised his index finger, letting it unravel to reveal braided, golden thread where there should be bone.

"When I enchanted myself, my body died, and I lost the main pillar of will: power. The will well that runs through me now is a poor replacement. A backup reserve for when conviction is not enough. I suspect Nostrand Del does the same."

Castille groaned.

“You’re telling me he’s a revenant, too?”

“Based on your description, he must be.”

Isla’s eyes widened.

“Do you know what this means?”

“No, but it looks like you do,” I said.

“Even with a will well, Nostrand Del couldn’t have survived over a hundred years underground without incredible conviction. And incredible conviction means-”

“Incredible will. Yes, this Nostrand Del might be stronger than me,” Shay said.

For the first time in the conversation, Reed frowned.

“An Enchanter stronger than you. That doesn’t bode well.”

I wrapped my arms around myself to stop from shivering. With a single word, Nostrand Del had reached in and taken control of my body. He changed me—turned me into that boy again, that orphan huddling in an alleyway, waiting to die.

No!

That boy was dead, and his fear should die with him.

But how?

Shay had given me the answer… Knowledge.

"H-How does it work? How does the First Magic work?”

All eyes in the room turned to me. Reed looked at me like a goblet of cheap wine.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Jacob. I could have you flogged just for asking that."

"I-I need to know. Just enough to protect myself… Enough to win."

The corners of Reed’s mouth tugged into a smile.

"I do like winners. Shay?”

The revenant rubbed his chin, scanning the nervous faces in the room.

"Who plays the more dangerous game, apprentice?"

"Me, of course, but I’m a winner."

They smiled at each other. The relationship was unnerving. What had Reed done to get in Shay's good graces, and what game was she playing?

"Very well. I will explain—only the basics.”

I sat up in the bed. Castille kept her arms crossed, her jaw clenching and unclenching. Dugan sat down in Isla's chair while the young mage picked up her staff and wrung the wooden shaft. Thor was asleep—his loss.

The First Magic. The ancient power of the elves. The power they used to warp the world.

Finally, I would learn.