Felitïa shivered. Not from the cold, though it was cold. She shivered from the emptiness. She had never drained herself this much before. Not even with her very first spell had she used so much energy. That occasion had left her exhausted, but not to the point where she had trouble standing without support. This was far beyond that. She had come close to burning herself out, maybe killing herself. The enormity of it was only just dawning on her.

She fell off Simeria when they finally stopped for the night. She now had some nasty scrapes on her palms and wrists from trying to break the fall. While Zandrue and Rudiger prepared camp, she fell asleep on some hard rocks and didn’t wake until morning. At some point, Zandrue moved her into her tent, but she never woke for that.

In the morning, she was still exhausted. She had known to expect it, but it still surprised her. She could have slept the whole day—would have preferred to—but they had to keep moving. They couldn’t take the chance anyone chasing them might catch up.

So now, after another long day of riding, she sat shivering. Shivering and staring at the uneaten food in her lap. She needed to eat it. She had not had much today, and she needed to keep her strength up for riding. But the food had no appeal. She wasn’t even sure what it was—a rabbit Zandrue or Rudiger had caught, maybe? The emptiness made the thought of eating stomach-churning. She pulled off a small piece and raised it to her mouth. After several seconds of hesitation, she shoved it in and swallowed with very little chewing just to get it over with.

Rudiger threw the bones from his meal into the fire. “Can we talk about what happened yesterday? We need a plan.”

“We let Asa recover first,” Zandrue replied. “I told you that.”

“And if they catch up to us before she does?”

“That’s why we keep moving every day. That’s all we can do for now.”

“And if they still catch us? We should at least have a back-up plan.”

“Rudiger!” Zandrue snapped.

“It’s all right,” Felitïa said. Her voice was still raspy, but it was getting better. This morning, she had not been able to do much more than croak. “Rudiger’s right. We need a plan.”

“You need to rest,” Zandrue said.

“And I will, but I have to eat this food first, and that’s going to take a little while. While I do, you two can talk and I can listen.” She raised another piece of food to her mouth and took a hesitant bite.

Zandrue shrugged. “All right then.”

“How about you start with those Darkers you mentioned?” Rudiger said.

“How about we start with your sword?” Zandrue said. “That’s what the Bloods were after.”

Rudiger sighed and nodded. “Fair.” He collected the sword, still sheathed, and laid it on his lap. “This is Slay.”

Zandrue smirked. “Slay?”

Rudiger nodded. “Slay.”

Not as bad as Garet’s Smasher, but it still left Felitïa wondering what the point of naming a sword was if you were going to be so unimaginative.

“Apt name, I suppose,” Zandrue said. “It did cut one of those Bloods nearly in half. I can forgive you for choosing it.”

“Oh, I didn’t name it,” Rudiger said. “It’s been in my family for generations. It’s had that name pretty much the whole time. Apparently had a longer name once, but that’s long forgotten.”

“How do you get it so sharp? I’d love to get our sword that sharp.”

“Our?”

Zandrue nodded to Felitïa. “I mean me and Asa. It’s technically her sword, but I’m the one that knows how to use it.”

“I gave it to you,” Felitïa said. “It’s yours.” She forced another bite of food.

Zandrue shrugged. “Yeah, but for some reason, I always feel guilty thinking of it as mine. Anyway, Rudiger. Slay. Tell us more.”

“Well, I don’t sharpen it,” he said. “Never needed to. It keeps its sharpness somehow.”

“Magic?” Zandrue said.

“Don’t really know, but I guess so.”

Zandrue whistled. “No wonder the Bloods were interested in it.”

“Yeah, but how would they even know?” Rudiger asked.

“Maybe they just noticed a valuable sword and only noticed after taking a closer look.”

“Never gave them a closer look.”

Zandrue smirked. “That might have been part of the problem.”

“What do you know about the sword?” Felitïa asked.

“Asa, you need to save your strength,” Zandrue said. “I can ask these questions.”

Felitïa nodded, causing a wave of dizziness to flood through her. She nearly fell over, but Zandrue caught her. It occurred to Felitïa that she couldn’t sense any emotions from Rudiger and Zandrue at the moment.

Once Felitïa was sitting up again, Zandrue said, “So, answer her question. What do you know about the sword?”

“Not much more than I’ve already told you. There’s some writing on the blade. Don’t know what it says though. Don’t think anybody in my family ever knew. My father certainly didn’t.”

“Did no one ever try to get it translated?” Zandrue asked.

Rudiger shrugged. “No idea. Never really occurred to me. I don’t know where I’d go to do that.”

Zandrue reached out her hands. “Can I see it?”

“Sure.” Rudiger held out the sword to her. “Careful. It’s heavy.”

Zandrue took the sword with a grunt. “You’re not kidding.” She slid the sheath off and then laid the bare sword in her lap.

Felitïa leaned over to see, but lost her balance, and fell into Zandrue’s side.

“Shit, Asa, careful! This thing could cut your hand off.”

“Sorry.” She tried to straighten herself up again, but couldn’t manage it. Rudiger rushed over to her and helped.

She had gotten a look at the blade though. It was exquisite, the blade polished so perfectly that the firelight glinting and reflecting off its surface seemed brighter than the source. There was no noticeable writing though.

Zandrue ran a finger along the flat of the blade, tracing out designs.

“You have to look closely to see the letters,” Rudiger said, sitting back down again.

“So I see,” Zandrue said.

“Recognise them?” Felitïa asked.

Zandrue continued tracing. “Not exactly. They look like Folithan letters, but not quite. They could be some sort of calligraphy, I suppose. My Folithan’s pretty rusty.”

“You speak Folithan?” Felitïa said. How in all this time had she not known that?

Zandrue shook her head. “Not really. I know a few basic words and enough of the writing to recognise the letters. That’s about it.”

“Any hope of translating it?” Rudiger asked.

Zandrue shrugged.

“We’ll need to figure out what the language is first,” Felitïa said. “This provides a sample of the script though, so we might be able to find something at the Hall of Knowledge.” She was starting to feel dizzy again, and her stomach was churning.

“We’re not going to Quorge, Asa,” Zandrue said.

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Oh, right. Quorge was north-east and they were going north-west. “Maybe the...the...” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. What was there to the north-west again? Her stomach was churning too much for her to think straight. Bile was building in her throat.

“We can try a library in Porthaven,” Zandrue said. “There are a couple big ones there.”

Felitïa tried to agree, but it all came up. She vomited up everything she’d eaten all over her uneaten food.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Zandrue said. “Rudiger, take your sword please. I’m getting Asa to bed.”

Felitïa smiled at Zandrue. That sounded like a good idea.

She lost consciousness.

She woke up to the feeling of concern. She was in her tent, Zandrue looking over her.

Zandrue smiled. “You had me worried.”

“Sorry.” She tried to sit up and look herself over.

Zandrue gently pushed her back down. “Don’t worry. I cleaned you up.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Work yourself to death, probably.” Zandrue chuckled, then stopped abruptly as concern spread from her again. “Please take it easy.”

“I will. I promise.” She wanted to say more, but sleep overtook her again.

The next day was a little better, and the day after that a little better still. She was still exhausted, but it was starting to feel more like normal exhaustion. She could eat again, for one. She could also do her concentration exercises again—not that she had much time for them. She was stuck on horseback most of the day, and she hadn’t recovered enough to try the exercises anywhere other than the ground.

Her strength was enough now, though, that she didn’t have to use every bit of it to stop from falling out her saddle. She could pay attention to her surroundings, and given how frequently either Zandrue or Rudiger rode strangely close beside her and would reach towards her with every slight move she made, she started to realise how much they must have been helping her not fall over the past couple days. That was a bit embarrassing.

On the downside, as her strength returned, so did the strange pseudo-memories regarding Rudiger. Any time she saw him, her mind would start to fill with images and words that she couldn’t make out apart from Rudiger’s name, and Borisin’s. This had to be the same thing that had made Zandrue seem so familiar when they’d first met.

Every time the feelings surfaced, they were distracting—especially in her weakened state—so much so that she found herself avoiding Rudiger just to avoid the feelings. She tried instead to pretend she was engrossed in watching the landscape. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to be engrossed in. Endless stretches of flat plains in every direction with only a few trees and farms to interrupt the monotony between the few small villages. But she focused on them just to avoid looking at Rudiger.

He must have thought her incredibly rude. She could certainly sense his confusion over her clipped responses to his attempts at conversation. She promised herself she would clear the air once her strength returned.

On the seventh day, they risked staying at a roadside inn instead of trying to find a secluded spot away from the road. No one had caught them yet, and they were beginning to trust that no one was following them. Winter was getting closer and the nights were getting colder. It would be nice to be indoors, to eat a proper meal again, and sleep in a warm bed.

While they ate, Rudiger broached the topic of long-term plans again.

“You doing okay?” Zandrue asked.

“I think so,” Felitïa said. “I can’t risk casting spells yet, but I think I can talk without throwing up.” She smiled at Zandrue, then at Rudiger, only to have those images flood her mind again. She turned her head away, blushing.

Rudiger sighed, both irritation and embarrassment flooding from him. “Look, if we’re going to travel together, you’re going to have to get used to looking at me once in a while.”

Felitïa steeled herself and looked back at him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I get it, and I’m flattered, but well, we don’t know each other all that well yet, and...”

Oh gods, he thought she was attracted to him. All the damn blushing she kept doing. She needed to get herself under control.

Amusement from Zandrue overshadowed Rudiger’s embarrassment. “Trust me, Rudiger, it’s not that. Asa doesn’t go for men. Why don’t we start with the actual source of this behaviour though, Asa?”

“I’ll try,” Felitïa said. She wasn’t sure she could explain this, at least not in a way that made any sense. “When I first saw you, Rudiger, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. I’m not sure how else to describe it. It’s like I already knew you even though I’d never seen you before in my life.”

“Maybe I reminded you of someone,” Rudiger said. “I meet people from time to time who remind me of other people.”

Felitïa shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. It’s much more...tangible? That might not be the right word. I got a similar feeling when I first met Zandrue, but it wasn’t so pronounced. I knew Borisin’s name before anyone mentioned it to me, and...” She paused.

Rudiger looked at her expectantly.

“I have images of you and Borisin in my head. Complete images. Without clothes in your case. Well, technically in Borisin’s too.”

“I see.”

“You believe me? I can prove it if I need to. I can describe things.”

This time it was Rudiger’s turn to blush. “Let’s not. I talk to my horse. I’m willing to believe in weird things.” But there was doubt mixed with the embarrassment flowing from him.

“There’s more though. When I picture you and Borisin, I can hear voices too. I think. Or maybe it’s one voice echoing. I can’t make out all the words, just your name, and Borisin’s.”

“Anything else?” Zandrue asked. “Instead of trying to fight these feelings, why don’t you let them do...whatever?”

Felitïa nodded. “Give me a moment.” She closed her eyes and the Room formed in her head. Zandrue’s and Rudiger’s presences were there—as always in locations that didn’t line up with where they were in reality—as were the inn’s other patrons’. She brought the walls in close and pushed aside the presences of all the real people, even Rudiger and Zandrue. Then she focused on the familiarity she felt with Rudiger.

Images appeared off to the side—sort of. The dimensions in the Room made no realistic sense. But Rudiger and Borisin were there. They just stood there, stiff and unmoving, like incredibly lifelike paintings. No. Sculptures. Unbelievably lifelike sculptures. There were others too. Zandrue, as naked as Rudiger, was in the lead. Rudiger was behind her, then Borisin. Then the others. And the voices.

“I hope I look good,” Zandrue said after Felitïa described the scene.

There was a time when an interruption like that would have broken her concentration and dissolved the Room, but not anymore. It did waver a bit, though, as her weakened state made concentration difficult. The fact she hung on was a reminder how far she had come.

The other figures were blurry, though she was reasonably certain they were people. They were of varying heights, although all shorter than Rudiger. That was all she could make out—except one of them was very wide, maybe as wide as tall. Another animal, maybe?

“How many?” Zandrue asked.

Felitïa tried to count. Were they in the order she was meeting them? The wide figure was sixth. Beyond the seventh figure, however, it became harder to separate them from each other. “At least eight,” she told Zandrue. “I’m pretty sure there’s more though, maybe as many as ten or even a dozen.”

“What about the voices?” Zandrue asked.

“Overlapping, hard to separate.” She could distinguish Rudiger’s name, so she focused on it, pushing the others aside.

Rudiger. Borisin. Then unintelligible.

She pushed that voice aside and tried to pull in another.

Felitïa.

“I can hear my name,” she said.

Felitïa. Felitïa.

“Repeating over and over.”

Zandrue. Rudiger. Borisin.

“Describe the voices,” Zandrue said.

It was a woman’s voice, although deeper than most women’s. Always the same voice. “I think it’s just one voice. Echoing and overlapping with itself. She’s stating a list of names, but I can’t make out most of them. Just mine, yours, Rudiger’s, and Borisin’s.”

“Maybe you only get to learn them when you meet them,” Zandrue suggested.

“Maybe,” Felitïa agreed. “Wait a minute. I think I can just about understand one other.”

Quilla.

Felitïa’s heart skipped a beat and she almost lost her concentration as the seventh figure in line came into focus. A voluptuous Eloorin woman, maybe thirty years of age. She had short dark hair, and her skin had a coppery tone to it similar to the Ninifins and others farther to the south. She had a rounded face and large, grey-brown eyes. One of her front teeth was chipped and she had a small, reddish birthmark below her right armpit.

Okay, that was enough detail. Felitïa opened her eyes, pushing the vision aside and letting the Room disappear. “Quilla. I saw Quilla.”

Zandrue slapped her hands down on the table. “Ha! Am I brilliant or what!”

Rudiger gaped at her.

“It was my idea to do this,” Zandrue explained. “I am taking full credit for this. Did it tell you where to find her?”

Felitïa shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. She’s also seventh in line. The three of you are in the order I met you. If I’m meeting everyone in order, I’ve got three more people to meet first.”

“I’m really not following,” Rudiger said. “Who’s Quilla?”

“We have no idea,” Zandrue said.

Rudiger stared blankly. “I don’t get it.”

Zandrue patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Neither do we. But it has something to do with Darkers.”

“The ones you still haven’t told me about?”

Zandrue smirked and looked to Felitïa. Felitïa nodded her assent and Zandrue told Rudiger about the Darkers.

“Okay, I’m still confused,” Rudiger said. “How does....what was the name? Quilla? How does Quilla fit into this story.”

“She was someone the Darkers were looking for,” Zandrue said. “They thought Asa would know where to find her, which is why they targeted Asa. Why they thought Asa would know, though...” Zandrue shrugged.

“This was ten years ago, right?”

“Nine, technically,” Zandrue said, “but basically, yeah.”

Rudiger shook his head. “Okay, I get seeing this Quilla in your head now would remind you of the Darkers, but you mentioned them a few days ago before seeing her now.”

“I saw a couple of them in the market in Tyl,” Felitïa said. “That’s what reminded me of them, though to be honest, I’ve never really forgotten. That day has always bothered me.”

Rudiger looked about to say something else, but paused. Confusion was still ebbing from him. Or was that her own confusion? No, it was definitely his, though it was a good reminder that she wasn’t fully recovered yet.

There was a hint of confusion from Zandrue too. “This does explain a little—well, hardly anything, really. But seeing Quilla in your head does fit with the Darkers thinking you’d know her.”

“Nine years earlier,” Rudiger said.

Zandrue nodded. “Exactly. Why are you seeing her now? Why not then?”

“Maybe because I didn’t have this ability then,” Felitïa said.

“But they knew,” Zandrue said. “Or they knew something. And you said you found me familiar when you first met me.”

Felitïa sighed. She didn’t have the answers, but she could make one logical conclusion. “I didn’t have full control over my abilities then. I still don’t have full control, but I have gotten a little better. That’s the only explanation I can offer.”

“So, is seeing us in your head part of some prophetic vision then?” Rudiger asked.

“I hope not, but something weird is definitely going on.” The idea that something was dictating her future was unsettling, even frightening. She might not have figured out exactly what she was doing with her life, but she wanted it to be her decision, not someone else’s.

She looked at Rudiger and the memories started to well up again, but this time she shoved them aside and put them in their proper place in her head. She didn’t blush, and she didn’t turn away.

However, fatigue washed over her and she felt her eyes start to close. That had taken a lot out of her. She probably should have waited a few days before doing this, but at least she had achieved real results. Maybe when she had fully recovered, she would be able to bring the rest into focus and maybe even figure out where the memories came from in the first place.

She excused herself and headed up to bed.