Chapter 1

Thane caught the early morning wind rising to his call as it took his spirit and lifted him skyward. Looking back, he watched as Jne moved away from their horses and stepped closer to his body where she would keep watch over it while he used his ArVen Tane to ride the winds. Only the day before their mounts had wandered into camp to their great joy and relief. Both had been let out of the city before the dark army reached Haykon, both knowing the city would never hold and the only chance their horses had for survival was to be set free.

They had been three days hard pressed following the eastern shore of the Corrin River traveling south, staying close to the groves of trees that hugged its banks, on their desperate race to reach Calandra before Zadok unleashed his evil host. Daily, he and Jne had traveled away from the column of refugees to a place where Thane could be alone to use his powers and watch the activities of the enemy that infested the smoldering fortress city, Haykon. His main purpose had been to determine whether or not they had quit the town and were giving chase so as to warn those who had been lucky enough to get out of Haykon with their lives, but he was also concerned about those following behind. Most of the townspeople had left through the eastern gates by order of Prince Ranse when the wall blocking the entrance to Nomad’s pass had fallen, but they had stuck to the road and were at least two days back unaware of the great danger behind them. Thane had reported such to the prince and Colonel Braxton their first day out but both agreed that none could be spared to go to their aid and hurry them along. They were left to hope and fate that they were quick enough and far enough ahead when Zadok finally ordered his minions forward.

Gaining height while slowing his approach, Thane kept himself well away from the city and the senses of the dragon that he knew could be anywhere looking for him. Having killed another of Zadok’s pets, he’d expected the black dragon to be sent to harass and kill as many of the Haykon refugees as possible while searching for Thane, but, to his relief, the skies had remained clear. That did not mean he was going to risk a closer look at the pillaging of Haykon, though. He knew all too well the evil of the races that now filled what was left of the city. He also knew that a multitude had not escaped and that the many campfires that had gone up inside the town and surrounding it had actually been the cook fires for those who’d been killed or captured. No, he had no desire to be witness to such abhorrent depravity.

Stopping at a great height, still a fair distance away, Thane suddenly felt a strange feeling coming over him as if the air around him was thick with a greasy black oil that invaded his spirit and made him feel dirty. He moved back, as if to retreat from this strange sensation when his eyes were suddenly drawn to the eastern gate that hung in ruin, barely supported by the one remaining hinge. There was a great amount of movement and then like dark puss oozing from a festering wound, a great mass of bodies poured out of the city and spilled onto the road. Others began approaching from outside the wall and joined the main body until the throng swelled in size while snaking forward toward the unsuspecting refugees. “They’re moving.”

“That’s right,” a voice cackled just as a face appeared in the air in front of him, an evil smile creasing its lips at the obvious shock Thane had experienced at being discovered.

“Zadok,” he hissed, trying to control the alarm and apprehension he felt at being exposed. Looking about quickly he couldn’t find the dragon but that didn’t relieve his anxiety completely. He still remembered all too well the last time he and Zadok met on the winds. He had barely escaped from having his spirit torn apart.

The face wavered for a brief moment, flicking in and out of visibility before finally sharpening back into focus. Zadok’s face was a mask of rage. “How do you know that name?”

Thane relaxed slightly, feeling he had gained the upper hand, but still moved his eyes about as if expecting the dragon to appear any moment. He was in a precarious position and he knew it. To return to his body now would only invite Zadok to follow and discover his location or worse still, have the black dragon sent instead. He still didn’t know the extent of Zadok’s powers, though the fact that he had killed his own brother, Gelfin, one who had the same gifts that Thane now possessed made him more than dangerous. He had to keep him off balance and think of a way to escape. Though more secure in his abilities since their last meeting, it was not the proper time to be over confident and make a mistake. More than his own life was swinging precariously in the balance.

Thane gathered more wind, calling out to it to surround him in a silent whirlwind trying to prepare for whatever Zadok might throw at him after his reply. “Your brother told me all about you, Zadok.”

His face faded slightly but returned quickly, an evil grin on Zadok’s face. “I have no brother, Thane. You must be mistaken. But no matter, you can call me whatever you like, it won’t change the fact that you will soon be dead.”

Thane steeled his nerves, searching for the calm and confidence he found while in battle. He was fighting, though no blows had yet been exchanged, and he knew that to show any fear or weakness would surely turn to Zadok’s advantage. He forced a smile. “No brother? Well then, I guess that necklace I took from you belonged to someone else.”

Thane heard him scream and a blast of oily feeling air crash into him before both were quickly cut off as Zadok’s face blinked out. Recovering quickly, Thane smiled, pushing the soiled wind away while calling more to buoy up his spirit. He quickly checked for the dragon and then breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t appear. So that was it. He’d found his enemy’s weakness. Backing away slightly he watched and waited for Zadok to reappear but his face did not immediately materialize. Was that it? Was he to get away without a fight? Suddenly, Zadok’s face flashed into existence and rushed forward.

“I will give you one last chance,” he raged as he quickly devoured the space between them. “Return my…trinket, and then bow to me and you may yet survive when I am through.”

Thane held his ground this time, preparing to unleash his own force of wind as he shook his head and smiled at Zadok’s face now mere feet away. “I’m sorry, Zadok, but your trinket no longer exists.”

“Impossible!” he screamed, his face flashing in and out in quick succession as Zadok fought for control. “A severed TanIs cannot release fire!”

Thane’s eyes narrowed. “That is where you are wrong, Zadok. I have released your brother, Gelfin, from his prison and destroyed the TanIs that held him there. No longer is he yours to torment.”

Zadok screamed releasing a tremendous blast of wind meant to dissipate the air holding Thane and destroy him in its wake but Thane was ready, releasing the force of his own wind engulfing Zadok’s and canceling it’s power before sending another gust at Zadok himself. The blast shot true but missed its mark as Zadok’s rage completely cut off his concentration and he disappeared. Thane didn’t wait to see if he would return this time. Now was his chance to escape and warn the others of what he’d seen. But before he could get himself turned about, he caught sight of a black mass rising from the ashes of what was once Haykon.

Jack lifted the tent flap and walked out into the early morning chill of spring still fighting to gain a foothold over winter. It had rained some the night before leaving the ground just wet enough to turn the camp muddy. Stretching, he surveyed the haphazard formation of bodies strewn across the ground like the dead from a horrible battle. Very few of Haykon’s refugees had the luxury of a tent to keep them warm and dry so many had huddled as close as they could to the nearest tree with the hope of keeping dry during the night. Though helpful with the first drops of rain, many now found themselves victims of the large drops that gathered in the leaves above and fell mercilessly on them soaking them all the same even though the rain had stopped an hour before. Though cold and wet, none was allowed to start a fire for fear that it might be seen and give up their position. Even now, many kept a keen eye to the sky expecting that any moment a dragon might drop down and have them for breakfast.

Jack sighed at the sight. So many lost, and still many who would not make it to the gates of Calandra. Every morning a count had been reported of those who had passed during the night. Most had been the infirmed and aged who were sick or dying before leaving Haykon. But instead of the dignity and peace of dying at home with family and friends gathered around, they were forced to the road and give their last breaths to foreign land surrounded by unfamiliar and blank faces. Instead of a proper goodbye with the appropriate rites and ceremonies administered, a shallow, mass grave was their final ordinance. A few hungry babies cried out in the distance reminding Jack of the stark shortage of food that was to greet the refugees once again this morning. They would all share what was available but none would leave camp satisfied this day. It had been such a desperate race to get away from Haykon with ones life that none had time to worry about from where the next meal might come. The promise of reaching Calandra soon was their only saving grace.

Looking east, Jack strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the gleaming towers of Calandra but to no avail. “Will we make it to the city soon, Master Jack?” a small voice suddenly asked, slightly startling him from his dark thoughts.

Looking down, Jack found Teek, the small Waseeni boy and only known survivor of his race, sitting on a stump next to the tent. His hands were busily twisting a strange object around in his fingers as he gave Jack a questioning look. Jack smiled and nodded. “Looks like we’ll start to the east today, son. We should see the city by late this afternoon and make it there by sometime late tomorrow.”

“That is, if the dragon doesn’t return,” Teek added for him.

Jack stared at the boy for a moment and then nodded slightly. Teek had seen too much sorrow in the past days for a boy his age; more than anyone should have to face in a lifetime. But these were dark days. None of them should have had to suffer what they had if not for the careless rule of their leaders. Soon, all hope would be lost because those leaders had failed to act in time.

Jack’s focus suddenly turned to the object with which Teek was playing. “What is that you keep fiddling with?” he asked, nodding toward Teek’s hands.

Teek looked down at one of the two prized objects he had left in his life. “It’s an old medallion my friend gave me before he died.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and stared at the Waseeni boy for a moment. “You mind if I take a look?”

Teek shrugged. “Sure,” he said dropping the medallion into Jack’s outstretched hand.

Jack grabbed the small chain and lifted it up for a better look. Attached to the end was a gold medallion inlaid with a strange insignia made of silver that curved into different points in the middle and was accented with four various colored gems. Jack’s expression changed to one of wonder and surprise. “Who did you say gave this to you?” he breathed, his voice edged slightly turning his question into an obvious command.

Teek blinked, a little taken back by Jack’s obvious recognition of the medallion. Thoughts of the prison in Thornen Dar flashed into his mind and he suddenly wondered if he might soon discover the similarities of prison cells held between dwarfs and humans. “It…it was a gift, Master Jack; a gift from a friend. I swear I didn’t steal it.”

Jack pulled his gaze from the medallion at Teek’s last comment and looked at the boy, registering the concern in his face and realizing he must have frightened him with his demanding behavior. His frown quickly changed to a smile and his manner lightened to a more amiable disposition. “My apologies, friend Teek,” Jack soothed. “I did not mean to startle you. I know that you did not steal this, at least from its original owner.” Leaning closer to the boy he looked about quickly as if to discover any unwanted listeners and then whispered conspiratorially, “You see, it was I who gave it away in the first place.”

Teek’s eyes widened in wonder, his nervousness doubling in an instant. Swallowing quickly at a failed attempt to wet his suddenly dry throat he whispered, “you mean, you’re the…”

Jack cut him off, his own demeanor becoming slightly nervous. “Let’s not worry about who or what I might or might have been for now. Let’s instead concentrate on the question first given. Who gave this to you?”

Teek’s expression didn’t change. “Yes, my Lord.”

Jack sighed. “That will never do,” he said half to himself. “It’s Jack, boy. Just plain Jack. Understand?”

Teek blinked but didn’t respond.

Jack’s voice took on a slight edge again as his frustration level began to climb. Not so much at the boy, but at his own foolishness in not guarding his words while trying to put the boy at ease. Obviously he had done just the opposite and was now feeling he’d placed himself in a situation he would all together rather avoid. “The name, Teek. Who was it that gave this medallion?”

“It was Twee,” Teek quickly answered and then hurried to add, “your….

Jack cut him off again with a raised finger. “Just Jack.”

Teek merely nodded.

A smiled suddenly broke through Jack’s rough exterior as the name finally settled into his mind. “Did you say, Twee?”

Teek again nodded his response.

Jack’s smile turned into a joyful laugh, “Well, I’ll be a troll’s trophy.”

Teek was beside himself. “You knew him?”

Jack sobered at the word knew suddenly remembering that all of Teek’s people had been wiped out by a dragon that left nothing but an empty hole in the Teague swamplands where Teek’s race once made its home. “Yes,” he nodded, returning the medallion to Teek and then squeezing his shoulder in friendship and sympathy. “I knew old Twee quite well. One of the most trusted of my…” he trailed off as if in deep thought and then flashed a concerned look at Teek as if just realizing the boy was there. “He was a good friend. Someone I trusted.”

“He was a father to me,” Teek said, dropping his eyes to the medallion in his hands and trying to hide the emotion that was obvious in his voice.

Jack stared at the young Waseeni boy understanding from his own experience what the boy was suffering. “Twee was a great man, Teek.” Jack’s expression softened and his eyes glazed slightly as if caught in a distant memory. “He was a wanderer; an adventurer. I never knew anyone whose feet itched so much to be out on the road exploring. Got himself into a lot of trouble that way, but he always seemed to escape. I’d venture to say that he saw more places that have not been taken in by any man’s eye than any yet still alive to tell the tale.”

Teek smiled, remembering the stories he loved to hear his old friend tell and the wanderlust that filled him every time they were together. “He told me of one of those places just before he died.” Teek’s own thoughts raced back as if reliving the tale as he stared at the medallion and spoke. “Something about being lost in the Underwoods Forest and finding a grove of trees.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Trees in a forest, eh? Did you say that was right before he died?”

Teek looked up at Jack as if startled by his voice and then smiled weakly. “No, they were different from the others. They were set apart and beautiful. He said they felt like they were alive.”

Jack opened his mouth as if preparing to point out the obvious but Teek put his hand up to stop him. “I know what you are going to say, I said the same thing. But he explained it like they were alive like you or me. So much so that he thought if they hand the mind to, they might just uproot and move on.” Teek stopped for a moment, his face suddenly showing some concern. “Do you think he was just telling a story that wasn’t really true to amuse a young boy?”

Jack’s expression became more serious. Something was scratching at his mind, a memory stored deep long ago that was trying to find its way through the corridors of his brain and into his remembrance but it wouldn’t come. “I never knew Twee to speak other than the exact truth no matter what the consequences. No, Teek, if he told it to you, you can be certain it was not made up.”

Teek smiled and then nodded.

Jack wanted to question him more, hoping to regain whatever it was that was agitating his memory, but was interrupted when he caught site of a small group of men carefully picking their way through the camp. They moved toward the tent in a deliberate manner yet careful not to soil themselves by inadvertently coming too close to one of the exhausted, filthy refugees. Their were five of them total. Two were obviously sent as bodyguards of sorts, their physical size and display of battle gear marking them so, yet anyone accustomed to war would instantly recognize their equipment as showpieces and not extremely functional in a real fight. The other three were dressed in gaudy silks and furs giving them an air of aristocracy but painting them more as one who tries too hard to appear as more than he really is. The leader was gaunt and frail looking, the wisps of his receding hair hanging tenuously to the great bald spot on top of his head that he tried unsuccessfully to cover by combing what little he had over from one side to the other. His nose was large and hawkish protruding from his small head and guarded on either side by tiny black eyes that seemed to never stop darting about. A laced handkerchief was held by a boyish hand constantly under his nostrils as if the smell of the camp were too offensive for his delicate beak. His strut was like that of a peacock, prancing about in a show of superiority gracing the common folk with the mere blessing of his presence.

Jack spat on the ground, the anger and disgust rising like acid in his belly. “So,” he growled barely under his breath, “the ambassadors have finally arrived.”

Teek looked at him quizzically. “Ambassadors?”

“Yes,” Jack replied, eyeing the approaching figures with disgust. “Calandra’s answer to the slaughter of its people.”

Teek stared at the men incredulously. This was what they sent to save them from complete annihilation? Teek look at Jack as if to put voice to the questions in his mind when the men finally passed their last obstacle and quickly covered the ground between them. The one in the lead stepped up to Jack while the other two stood back behind leaving the two guards at the back. Jack could see now that they were more like pets than protection. “Who is the one in charge here?” a thin, whiney voice asked emitting from the frail one in the front. Just the greasy sound of it made Jack want to go and bathe.

“Who’s askin’?” Jack replied unable to completely disguise the disgust from his voice.

The man’s eyes played slowly over Jack as if trying to determine if he was even worthy of addressing, a small sneer of loathing playing across his thin lips. Finally, as if coming to the conclusion that Jack may in fact be leader of such a dirty infestation of filth as he saw around him, he spoke. “I am Ambassador Prissley of the House of Maggest Chief Ambassador to his royal majesty and protector of the land, his grace, King Dagan. And who might you be?”

Jack’s anger was just at the surface now and he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold it in check much longer. He knew all too well the House of Maggest. A more apt name would have been House of Maggots for that was what the truly were. Maggest was a mid-level House of opportunists with their noses constantly to the wind sniffing out any chance to prey on the misfortunes feeding on the financial corpses of their rivals or anyone else that might give them a boost in status. In what he now considered another life, Jack had had to deal with the Maggest House for a time and the foul stench it left in his nostrils was now rediscovered in the form of Prissley. “You can call me Jack,” he replied, his face getting red with the exertion it required to hold from simply pounding the king’s men into the mud.

Although seemingly impossible, Prissley puffed himself even more, his handkerchief covered nose rising still higher in the air. “And from what House do you hale?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “No House,” he hissed, “just Jack.”

The ambassador’s demeanor instantly turned from one of self-importance to a frozen wall of disdain. It was all too obvious that one without the important of a landed House was not worth the air such a person wasted in breathing. As far as Prissley was concerned, their interview had ended and Jack was nothing but a ball of waste rolled about in the mud by a dung beetle.

Jack couldn’t mistaken the instant change and opened his mouth for a verbal onslaught, but just at that moment, the tent flapped opened and out pressed Jace followed immediately by Prince Ranse. Both still kept to their ranger garb still not giving over to the royal dress appropriate for a prince or that of the king’s elite royal guard fitting a man of Jace’s position. Anyone catching a glimpse of the rune markings that had been carved into Jace’s hands would mark him for the weapon’s master he was. Ranse, on the other hand, would have not appeared to be anything other than a common traveler with his doe skinned pants and hanging green tunic. It had been decided to keep his royalty a secret so as not to cause undo alarm or fuss from the refugees or the meager band of men that were now left of Haykon’s armed force.

Prissley, though, was not fooled recognizing the prince almost immediately. His reaction though was not what Jack would have expected from one involved with the royal household. He merely turned away from Jack as if he were no more than a common piece of dung to be left smoldering in the street and then only nodded slightly to the prince. Being the third son of the king did not afford Ranse much, if any, power but respect still should have been shown to one of his station, especially from the ambassador. Ranse seemed unfazed though and simply nodding back before addressing the ambassador. At least Prissley followed that much protocol to allow the prince to speak first. A courtesy he had not afforded Jack. “Prissley, what brings you here? I’m fairly certain my father has not sent you to welcome us with open arms into the city.”

The ambassador smirked at the suggestion as if the prince had said something funny. “Of course not, we were sent to deal with Haykon’s embarrassment.”

Jack opened his mouth, no longer able to contain his rage but was quickly cut off by the prince. “By embarrassment, I presume you mean the fact that we are here with Haykon’s sole surviving refugees and that the tens of thousands of trolls, goblins, and orcs that chase after us should have been dealt with more efficiently.”

Prissley smiled sweetly. Jack thought he might throw up. “Never fear, Ranse,” he said the prince’s name—eliminating the royal title and courtesy he should have given—with weakly masked disdain. “We will take care of the mess that has become of your father’s northern fortress. In the meantime, you honestly don’t think to bring such dregs,” he motioned to the refugees, “to the grand city of Calandra.” It was not a question but a statement.

Ranse’s eyes flashed for a brief moment but his features remained calm. “That is precisely what I mean to do.”

The ambassador laughed out loud this time. “You know that will never do.”

It was obvious that Ranse had had enough. “Is that all? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your errand, after all.”

Maggest smiled at the prince, his lips turning up in a sickly fashion. “We are through here.” Turning to the four behind him he motioned them to follow. “Come, let us be gone from such filth before I lose my breakfast from the scent of it.” Then looking back at the prince purposefully he added, “We have another mess to deal with.” And then he turned about and picked his way back through the crowds.

The four of them watched the ambassador and his entourage retreat, the incredulity clear on their faces, except for Jace’s whose face never altered from the stern look he seemed to hold constant. “Can they really stop those that follow us?” Teek asked in wonder.

Jack and the prince regarded him. Ranse smiled and then shook his head. “They go to their doom my young friend.”

“At least there’s some good to all of this,” Jack added half under his breath before adding, “and that is where we will all end if we don’t get this group moving.”

Checking the dragon’s position, Thane pressed harder gathering the wind to race him back toward his body. It wasn’t long before he passed over the refugees who had taken their leisure in their race for Calandra and his stomach tightened. Looking back, he could not see the dragon any longer. Where had it gone? He was certain it had been sent after him when Zadok’s rage made him unable to fight on the winds. But then where was it? Had it returned to Haykon? He paused in his flight, checking the sky in all directions. He didn’t see it. He looked back at the people of Haykon and it was then he realized what a fool he’d been. The dragon was not sent for him. No matter how fast it flew, it was no longer a match for the speed he could call forth. No, the dragon was after the unsuspecting townspeople. Zadok was chipping away at the HuMan population. The centuries of waiting gave him the patience to slowly and methodically destroy them a little bit at a time. The helpless refugees from Haykon would supply his army with fodder for the last press against Calandra.

Dropping down near the long file of people he tried to find someone who might be able to see him so he could warn them but he knew when he started it was in vain. Only one having the ArVen Tane would be able to see him as he rode the winds. It was no use and he knew it. Even if they could see him and start the line running, they would be no match for the speed of the dragon. They were lost unless he could somehow turn it away. Regaining altitude he turned back the way he came as he continued to climb finally catching sight of a distant black dot gradually growing in size as the dragon ate up the distance between them. Gathering about him all the wind he could hold, Thane kept going higher as he followed the dragon’s path all the while appearing larger as it came. Its speed suddenly seemed to increase as it caught sight of the unsuspecting travelers below.

Thane readied himself, knowing he had only one shot at this, his spirit straining to hold the tremendous amount of wind that now swirled about him in a seeming vortex of power. It had to be enough. The dragon was almost directly under him when suddenly, its body shot forward in a dive heading straight for the refugees. Thane followed, the vortex of air rushing with him as he arrowed toward the dragon’s back.

Gaining speed and quickly closing the distance, Thane readied to release the wind onto the dragon praying it would be enough to force it into the ground hopefully killing it or at least wounding it enough to save the line of people still slowly moving along the road, still unaware of the danger falling upon them. Holding for a brief moment longer he closed the distance and then released the wind, holding back only enough to keep himself from spiraling into the dragon’s back. What appeared to Thane as a raging torrent hit the dragon dead on but to his dismay its affects were minor at the most. The dragon did drop some but was quickly able to right itself as it passed over the end of the line of people rushing still ahead toward the front eliciting panicked shrieks of terror as the people finally understood their fate.

Thane watched in horror as the dragon swooped down over those in the lead and then reversed its direction so it was now facing them. He watched as the dragon’s chest quickly expanded before releasing its foul liquid onto the refugees wiping out a large patch of people. All the others turned back in a frenzy of terror at seeing their friends and loved ones dissolved to nothing before their eyes while dragon fear wrapped a vice grip around their hearts.

Thane thought he was going to be sick. He needed to help them but what more could he do? It was obvious that his wind powers were useless while in spirit, only having an effect on any in the same form. Against those in corporal form he was powerless. He needed his body but it was still far away, and without it he knew he could not affectively attack the dragon. He watched as it turned about and then dropped in closer maneuvering to make sure none of the chaotic mass got away but instead reversed their direction. “It’s herding them back to the army. They’ll all be massacred.” He could not save them. The thought was a lead ball in his gut. With all the powers he possessed, he was powerless to save these people. The only thing left was to get back to camp and warn the others. At least he could help the remaining people of Haykon escape. Turning away he raced back to Jne and his body with as much speed as he could gather.

Jne didn’t flinch in the least as his head suddenly lifted; she’d become accustomed to his popping in and out of his body in the past few days. “What news?” she asked, catching the look on Thane’s face as he quickly rose and turned for his horse, Chtey. “They come, don’t they?”

“Yes,” he replied, grabbing Chtey’s mane and jumping onto his back. “The dragon has moved out ahead to the people escaping on the road and is now herding them back to the army that has just left Haykon on its way to overtake them.”

Jne jumped onto her own horse turning it south back toward the group they’d been protecting.

“We must make speed if we are to help the others,” Thane shouted while pushing his horse into a dead run. Jne didn’t answer but urged her mount after him.