They kept Leopold in the back as the column moved through the mountains. His staff had been almost useless to the fifteen remaining men as they traversed the overgrown highway—its magic only seemed to affect the wielder, who would swiftly leave the rest behind if they didn’t check their progress. Leopold would have tried to make a break for it, would have left everything behind and stumbled into the frost alone and freezing, but for the manacles he wore.

They were heavy and chafed his wrists. Mostly iron, but he noticed bands of inscribed copper and, strangely enough, silver, running through the insides of the cuffs. They reached halfway up his forearm and sapped his will and essence equally until he was nearly stupefied. He wondered if these manacles were meant for Willow.

What would they do to her when the column caught up?

Every night they suffered attacks which Leopold was unable to assist in defending against. He wouldn’t have if he had the ability; he would’ve run off, damn the danger. Their guards dropped like flies. First fifteen, then thirteen, then ten. When they reached the city after a particularly vicious attack by nearly invisible arboreal elves, there were eight guards left in their party.

Plus the dean and Leopold. Ten total.

Then, on the night before they entered the city they’d glimpsed the day before through the mountain pass, he heard a rustling near where he’d been dumped. A spell cast by the dean kept him warm, but no tent was allowed to cover him. He was to be watched at all times.

Nearly all times.

Bryan was there by his side in the dark.

“Leopold,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

“I’m awake,” Leopold slurred.

Bryan stared at the manacles around Leopold’s wrists. Leopold held them up so they reflected the firelight better.

“I don’t know,” Bryan said, and shook his head. He reached down to a leather holster at his side and withdrew a black rod. It was darkness itself—not even the firelight glinted along its surface.

“These are supposed to cancel certain kinds of magic,” Bryan said, considering something. “But I don’t know. Have you ever heard of a null rod before?”

“No,” Leopold said. “You’ve used one?”

“Had one, one time in a larger caravan. North of Durum there are a couple of essence shadows. These are supposed to hurt them where nothing else can. Usually they leave you alone, but…”

Bryan glanced over his shoulder and gave the manacles a sharp tap with the null rod.

Nothing. They didn’t spring open like Leopold hoped. He didn’t even sense a disruption in the inscriptions hobbling his will and essence.

“Shit,” Bryan said, then turned his head quickly. “I have to go. We’ll try this again—you need to get to Willow.”

He disappeared like a shadow in the night. Leopold was left to chew over his friend’s words in his too-slow brain, trying to figure out when ‘again’ might be. It may be a very long time yet.

The time never came.

🜛

When they entered the city limits—which weren’t very clear as there was no city wall—the place was entirely deserted. All around them was the feeling of watching eyes and bated breath, but Leopold couldn’t see anybody. Buildings that looked like houses were all shuttered up as if in preparation for an oncoming storm. Shops were boarded and barred. It was as if they were expecting the apocalypse.

The dean halted the column and removed a device from his robe. Leopold couldn’t see what it was, except that the man held it in his hand like a compass. He turned the column right and they passed the large, ornate building in the center of the city. Instead they seemed to be heading toward a large, round building that looked almost like a covered theater. Was this where Willow was being held?

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As the column penetrated further into the city, the feeling of watchfulness became almost unbearable. Leopold could sense what felt like thousands of people all around them behind the closed shutters and locked doors, but they were completely silent. Once he heard a baby cry out, only to be suddenly silenced. He wondered about that as they walked slowly down the street at full alert.

The theater was at least thirty feet high with arches upon arches supporting its bulk. It didn’t look like it had been chiseled out of stone or constructed with magic—it almost looked like it was one of those ruins from the old world brought back to life. It had twin double doors that were open to the world. Impenetrable darkness lay beyond.

They lined up before the facade and the dean took out the device again. Leopold caught sight of it—it was definitely a compass in an ornate wooden case. The needle pointed unwaveringly ahead.

Was Willow inside? And what was that device pointing to?

“This is it,” the dean muttered, and met each of their eyes in turn, save for Leopold.

“Equipment check.”

The remaining guards unsnapped their boiled leather armor to show bright, inscribed brass chainmail underneath. The sets seemed to glow slightly, as Leopold had seen one night so long ago.

“You can leave your other weapons here. The null rods will be the only things effective past this point I’m afraid.”

The guards each unbuckled their belts and slipped their scabbards from the leather strips. In their place they applied the holstered null rods and re-buckled. Leopold caught Bryan shove something wrapped in cloth into the back of his belt where the dean wouldn’t notice, and he averted his eyes instantly. Whatever it was, it might help Willow, and possibly himself.

“Alright,” the dean said, and tapped his staff on the ground. Rolf stood beside him, still with his sword strapped beside his null rod.

“Forward.”

Leopold stumbled along behind the company, dragged by the guard on the end. When they entered the darkness, the man drew the null rod from his holster and swiveled his head from side to side as his eyes adjusted to the dark. It was warmer inside the building and much darker than the daylight without.

When Leopold’s eyes finally adjusted, he saw laid out before him not a sunken theater, but a smooth-floored greatroom which looked as though it could seat almost a thousand, lit all around with bobbing lights. It was like the town hall in his own hometown, except ten times the size. He wondered if it was normally used for governmental functions when it wasn’t being commandeered for some sort of showdown chamber.

“Corinth Weatherby, its been a long time,” a voice boomed out from all around them. The guards turned in confusion, only the dean keeping his eyes straight ahead. Leopold followed his gaze to a large double door set in the other side of the hall.

“Not long enough,” the dean called out, his voice magically amplified by a quickly whispered spell. “I thought we’d never see you again. I should’ve been so lucky.”

“Lucky is what you are. What you all are. You are here to see the beginning of a new order. You have the honor to serve as the sacrifices that will bring my world through its birthing pains.”

“You always talked too much. Shut up and come out, unless you plan to bore us to death.”

“Never,” the voice said, then the doors at the other end of the building cracked. Out strode an elderly man with a giant smile plastered on his face dragging a woman behind him on a leash. It took a moment for Leopold to recognize, without her limp and the sharp angles of her cheekbones, that the woman was Willow.

A low sound started in Leopold’s throat, and he pushed through the syrupy effect of the manacles. The light from outside faded and blinked out as the doors behind them slammed shut, and still Leopold tried to scream. Eventually, through an infinite moment of effort, he shrieked.

“Willow!”

She was so far away across the great hall, but her eyes opened wide and he felt the moment she locked eyes with his. Her mouth fell open.

“Leopold?”

“You’ve brought a snack, how thoughtful,” the old man said with a grin. “What do you think is going to happen Corinth? We battle for control of the Wraith? Or are you planning to kill her before she reaches threshold?”

The dean gripped his staff so hard his joints cracked.

“You will not make that monstrosity,” the dean growled from behind clenched teeth. “And if you do, I’ll be damned if you’re the one in control of it.”

“Ah, so its the first then,” the old man mocked. “You’ll take her back to Durum? You fool, Durum’s gone.”

Time ground to a halt. Durum gone? Leopold turned his head to find Bryan and saw that the man’s face had gone ashen. What did the old man mean by ‘gone’?

“I know,” the dean said, and a strained smile grew across his taught face. “I’ll just have to take your little fiefdom, won’t I?”

“Oh to be young. Such ambition,” the old man said. “Everyone wants to rule the world.”

He pulled something from the breast of his jacket and gripped Willow around the neck from behind. Leopold had just enough time to realize the old man was holding a short dagger before it was plunged into Willow’s back

“Let the game begin.”