“Wake up.” The voice was hushed, but forceful. Highwaymen? This close to The Throne? Those paladins were slacking. Too much focus on the riots in the Back City, probably.

  The man blinked himself awake to see a man immediately over him. His skin, though it may have been the moonlight, was frightfully pale, and his breath was not misting the way Frank’s was. Good thing Frank had run into those nomads two days ago. His wagon was completely empty. His pockets though? What a shame, he was hoping to buy the horse a new bridle.

  “What do you want?” the man asked.

  “The wagon. Get out.”

  The man turned when he heard metal clanking. A man the size of a mountain was carefully hooking his already awake horse to the wagon. The horse’s blanket was neatly folded on the driver’s seat.

  “What? No!”

  “Not negotiating,” the pale man responded.

  “Me, neither.” The man reached down toward his thigh, but jumped when he felt another hand there already. He looked to see a woman pulling his knife out of its leather pouch.

  “Barely enough to open a jar, much less take a life,” she muttered sleepily before hurling his knife into the woods.

  “Get out of the wagon now.” The pale man set his hand on his chest. He wore a bracer of polished silver that sparkled in the winter air. Something was etched into it, but the man was not in a reading mood.

  The merchant grunted and opened his mouth to speak, but groaned as the hand on his chest began to heat up. It became unbearably hot in a matter of seconds. The last thing Frank perceived was a sound unlike any other. A thick, hollow pop.

  Sarah looked away, grimacing as Matt threw the merchant’s body onto the frosted ground. There was a wet thud as the contents of the man’s torso tumbled from the hole Matt had created.

  He grinned at his work. It was just like his dream.

  “Horse is all tied up,” Benji said from the front.

  “Good. Sarah looks like she is sleepy, so I guess I will drive.” Matt walked to the front, pushing past Benji aggressively.

  “Why are you acting out?” Benji asked.

  “It’s been a long day. Get in the wagon. We are almost to The Throne.” Matt grabbed the reins and urged the horse down the road. He began muttering to himself as they rode through the night and into the next day.

  Sarah had not slept for two days. Every night brought a new horror. First was that talking dark cloud that beat up the old priest in the church followed immediately by leaving Kaitlyn behind while she bled on the floor. Then murdering the merchant and stealing his wagon. Based on their time, they would be reaching The Throne in one day. Who knew how much death awaited there?

  She looked at the setting sun. In the meantime, what would tonight bring?

  “Town up ahead. Heads down and keep quiet,” Matt ordered. “And, Benji, sit on that blood stain or something.”

  Benji quietly shifted in the wagon’s back, but Sarah stopped him.

  “Oh yeah, real inconspicuous. A giant brutish man with a blood stained ass. Just put this blanket over it.”

  “Who’s going to be looking at his ass, Sarah?” Matthew hissed.

  “That’s what I was gonna talk about. I want to stop for the night, Matthew. I’m exhausted. And frankly, I'm tired of killing people.”

  Matthew laughed sharply. “I’ve been doing all the heavy lifting, Sarah.”

  “No, that damn bracelet of yours has. And you look like a corpse because of it. Wouldn’t be surprised if Chael were behind us, nose to the ground following the smell of your cologne.”

  “He probably is, just coming for you if you keep talking back to me.”

  Benji suddenly moved between the two. “Matthew.” His voice was low and forceful. “You do not threaten Sarah. She is one of two people standing beside you right now.”

  Matthew did not look back at his allies. Instead, he began mumbling.

  “What are you going on about up there?” Sarah asked from behind Benji.

  “Fine! We’ll stop.” Matthew shouted his acquiescence as he pulled his coat sleeve down over the Halcyon Band.

  The wagon trundled on as the trees began to thin and a town began to appear. It was a town in the loosest sense. Maybe four buildings on either side of the road. Shops on the bottom, homes on the top. It was surely a money grab for those too poor to stay within The Throne, but eager to be close enough to do business with its citizens and the farmers who work the outskirts.

  A single restaurant and inn seemed to be the center for action in the town. Partly because it seemed to be the only street-level structure with lights in the windows. The early Winter twilight meant an end to business for the other structures.

  “We can eat. And we can rest for a few hours. We’re leaving before dawn, though.” Matthew’s orders were delivered with finality.

  A finality that Sarah immediately disregarded. “I’ll wake up when I wake up, Matthew. Why don’t you park the wagon and stable the horse. I’ll get rooms. C’mon Benji.”

  Benji looked to Matthew, then to Sarah, and back again. Matt was mumbling again.

  “Fine, do what you need to. I’ll take care of this.” Benji climbed from the wagon as Matthew led the horse and cart into the alley on the far side of the inn. The crimson eyes of the King’s Shade became visible as soon as the shadows of the buildings fell.

  “Let them be children, Matthew. We have greater ambitions, you know.”

  “Why are you willing to let us stop? We are so close!”

  “Remember when I told you I had someone to introduce you to? He is here, Matthew.”

  “Really? What a coinci-”

  “Gah! I hate that word.” The King Shade slipped from the wagon as they passed into a large yard behind the inn. A covered wagon was already parked in the open lot, but the stable, a walled off barn with a large double door, seemed awfully quiet. “There is rarely a true coincidence in life, Matthew. Trust me, I have seen much. And all of it is orchestrated by someone.”

  “So this is your orchestration, then?” When Matthew was satisfied with the placement of the wagon, he hopped down to begin releasing the horse.

  “Depends,” the King’s Shade seemed to come as close to a shrug as his smokey body would allow. “Does it please?”

  “We’ll find out when I meet this guy, I suppose.” With the horse removed from the wagon, Matthew began leading it to the stable door. But the King’s Shade drifted beside the two of them.

  A wispy limb of the god caressed the horse, and the creature’s pupils dilated. The curious energy of the horse was suddenly gone.

  “I should tell you,” the King’s Shade began. “There is something in this stable that some may find…” The crimson eyes rolled as the god searched for the proper word. “Troubling! But you are a champion now, Matthew. Show no fear.”

  Matthew pushed the door open and strained with every muscle to keep from vomiting. The smell of rotting flesh had filled the stable to bursting. The source of the smell seemed to be a massive creature draped in a huge, thick blanket. The snout of a recumbent beast barely pushed out under one end of the blanket. A leg fell out from under the other end. Matthew noticed the leg only because a solid piece of exposed bone caught the moonlight aggressively.

  “What is that…?”

  “Destiny, Matthew. I’m going inside to prepare our host.” The shadowy figure of the King’s Shade suddenly twisted into itself, leaving behind a sparkling dust in the moonlight. Matthew did his best to breathe only through his mouth, but it still turned his stomach. He worked as quickly as he could to tie up the catatonic horse to get away from the beast under the blanket.

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  Inconspicuousness can sometimes be a result of overly conspicuous features in abundance. When the visitors to the restaurant looked at Zarraz, instead of an out-of-towner, or a stranger, they saw someone too unique to pay attention to.

  He had the olive skin tone of a central-Gavundari city man, punctuated by the sharp features of his fanged folk heritage. Neither of these were common in a small town such as this one in the north of Talnorel. He wore the clothes of a middle class townsfolk, which stood out in the rural settlement. But even still, if the others who even noticed him sitting off to the side of the room were asked, they would think he was a man from The Throne who just needed some fresh air.

  His greasy, jet black hair was slicked back out of his beady eyes, which were turned down at the tabletop in front of him. The room was poorly lit, and when the King’s Shade’s crimson eyes appeared across the table from him, only Zarraz noticed.

  “Oh! Hello!” Zarraz had been silent for so long, the opportunity to speak may have come off a little too strong. Though his cheerful welcome could not have possibly been louder than the excitement of the room, the Kings Shade reacted.

  “Quiet, boy,” the King’s Shade whispered. “My visitor is here for you. He is out back.”

  Zarraz grinned. “Did he see the catoblepas?”

  “He smelled it. Even I smelled it, Zarraz. I guarantee Kraag smelled the creature.”

  “I can only do so much. The flesh still decays, you know.”

  “For now.”

  “But when we get to those crypts, and get those stored gods’ tears!” Zarraz’s excitement was building, along with his volume.

  “Settle down!” the god hissed. “Settle down.”

  The door to the inn opened, ringing a bell as Matthew stepped in.

  “There! Get to know each other. I’ve planted enough seeds. I just hope those two morons upstairs do not break Matthew's resolve. Do your best, Zarraz. And try to be a little more welcoming than normal.” The eyes of the King’s Shade flickered, then disappeared. Instead of the twinkling dust, each eye left behind a small crystalline shard that fell to the table with a clink. Zarraz swiped them from the tabletop as soon as they came to rest and stuffed them into his trouser pockets.

  “Mister Carpenter,” the woman behind the counter called to him. “Your friends wished you to know they have taken their meals up stairs. And that you have a private room.”

  “They did not wait for me?” Matthew felt a little frustrated at first, before remembering that the King’s Shade promised him a contact.

  “I’m sorry sir. I can show you which room they are in if you’d like?” the woman offered. But Matthew ignored it and walked past her to scan the room.

  The restaurant portion of the inn was boisterous, and reeked of alcohol. The townspeople seemed to regularly let loose in this building. Probably another reason for the shops to close so early.

  Every table was spilling over with loud men and women. All but one. A small man that was smaller than even Kaitlyn, sitting alone in the corner, mumbling to himself. Matthew looked around for some additional confirmation that this was the “host,” but realized it was not too necessary, and moved to the table.

  Before he sat down, the small man’s tiny eyes drilled into Matthew. His lips pulled back over his sharp teeth in a strange way. Matthew had seen fanged folk, such as Jack, smile a thousand times, but this was different. It was the smile of someone who learned of the facial feature in a book and practiced it for years.

  “Zarraz.” That was all the man said as he thrust a hand forward for a shake.

  “Nice to meet you,” Matthew said, shaking the man’s hand. “My name is Matthew.”

  “I thought you would be bigger.”

  Matthew stumbled, studying the man’s face. He was still smiling. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No disappointment!” Zarraz replied cheerfully. He leaned across the table and poked Matthew’s forehead. “Your strength is probably all right in there.”

  Matthew swatted Zarraz’s hand away. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Zarraz muttered as he retreated. “My friends are a little socially awkward. I’ve learned bad habits.” Zarraz suddenly looked around and lowered his voice even more. “May I see it?”

  At first, Matthew, confused by the entire interaction, was not sure what Zarraz meant, but it dawned on him. He slowly pulled the sleeve of his coat up to show the man the Halcyon Band.

  “A true relic of the Church of the Will. Fascinating.”

  “So,” Matthew said, pulling the coat back over the treasure. “My friend says you may be able to help me.”

  “Our friend!” Zarraz corrected. “And I think so. Did you see my steed? In the stable?”

  “What was that thing?”

  “A catoblepas,” Zarraz whispered.

  Matthew rolled his eyes. “Like the paladins at The Throne have never fought one of those?”

  “Not like mine! Mine’s special.” As Zarraz spoke, he seemed to be distracted by something in the corner of the table. “Excuse me.” Zarraz disappeared beneath the tabletop and left Matthew still confused.

  What was the King’s Shade getting him involved in? Maybe this kid was just going to be a distraction. A sacrifice to the Dreamer’s army. The shadow had not failed him yet.

  Zarraz reappeared, and Matthew stifled a scream. He was holding a small mouse by the tail, delicately with two fingers. The right side of the mouse’s head was bloody pulp, and judging by where Zarraz had found the critter, it appeared it may have been stepped on by a guest.

  Matthew watched uncomfortably as Zarraz got to work. And he maintained conversation eagerly as he did. He lightly draped the mouse across the tabletop and looked up to Matthew.

  “So, we go to The Throne. And then, about my Catoblepas? We just have to get him in the gate. I figure he is much bigger than you or me. We could probably slip around to the crypts while he makes some statues in the main drag!” Zarraz reached into his pocket, revealing a handful of small, clear crystals. They were tiny, but bright. He dug through with his fingers to find one in particular which seemed miniscule. Just a splinter of stone.

  “Then, once we are in the crypt, I think we should depend on that bracelet of yours. Or is it a bracer? Probably a bracer. That sounds more masculine.” Zarraz put the other crystals back in his pocket and studied the miniscule one for a moment before pressing it into the pulped flesh of the mouse. “But I guess the Halcyon was a woman, right? Maybe she would call it a bracelet.”

  “Excuse me for one second.” As the splinter sunk inside, Zarraz’s hand began to glow purple. Matthew, disgusted at first, was now enthralled.

  Zarraz set his second hand open in front of the mouse. And with a small squeak, the mouse, which had surely been dead, lifted itself back onto his tiny feet and sniffed the man’s fingers. It swung its tiny head in Matthew’s direction, and Matthew jumped in his seat.

  The bloody mass was no different. Flesh still hung loosely, with the tiny, grey brain still exposed. Where the mouse’s eye had been, the splintered crystal shone brightly. The snarled nose of the mouse flicked lightly as the mouse sniffed in Matthew’s direction.

  “Anyway, how’s that sound?” Zarraz asked, but saw Matthew’s fixation with the small animal. “Do you want to name him? I was thinking ‘Splat.’ It’s important to remember where you came from, you know?”

  “I hate this kid,” Sarah whispered to Benji in the early morning gloom, her back to Zarraz. The Gavundari fanged folk was sitting at the front of the wagon muttering on and on to Matthew as they rode away from the rising sun. “We leave Kaitlyn behind and replace her with this creep?”

  “I hate this monster following us,” Benji replied. The catoblepas, still cloaked in a blanket, now clearly bloodstained, was limping along the empty road behind them.

  “I can’t keep with it, Benji. I want to go home.”

  “Me, too.”

  “We need to leave, then. Just jump off the wagon and leave. Matthew is going to get us killed. He got Jack killed, and Dreamer knows what happened to Kaitlyn back there. She could be gone, too. We need to cut our losses.”

  Beji did not respond, but Sarah suddenly heard he was not breathing normally. She looked to Benji to see him crying.

  “Don’t cry, big guy.”

  “I don’t want to lose any more friends, Sarah. Not even Matt.”

  “Then we need to leave. What good are friends if you’re a ghost?”

  Just then, there was a low, deep crack and a flash of heat. A wall of fire suddenly barricaded the roadway.

  “Stop the cart, boys!” The voice came from ahead, small and nasally.

  “Dammit,” Matthew spat. “Why do we have to slow down now?”

  “Who are these guys?” Zarraz mused as three men burst from the bare woods. They were wearing red cloaks with full-head hoods, eye holes cut into them that completely masked their identities.

  “Wrath Liches,” Matthew hissed. “Long history with this group. No quarter for them. Not today.” Matthew looked down at the bracer as the horse whinnied in response to the fire.

  “Haha! Okay!” Zarraz and Matthew leapt from the wagon together as Benji and Sarah were still repositioning to see what was happening. They could only watch, stunned.

  The Wrath Liches, when they realized that the two men were coming for them, began to churn their liquid flames. But there was no time. Matthew bent slightly to press a hand to the gut of the center man. Heat and then a pop. The Wrath Lich collapsed into his own gore.

  Not to be shown up, Zarraz clapped his hand together and let out a wild laugh. The lich in front of him continued to gesture for his magics, but the fire never came. The man stopped, confused, before doubling over. He tore at his hood, but could not remove it before blood began to pour from his mouth, nose, and eyes. He, too, fell.

  The third lich, horrified, dropped his hands and began to run, but Matthew roared and grabbed the man’s cloak.

  “No!” Matthew spat as he pulled the wizard back. The man was begging for his life while Matthew ripped his hood off. The Wrath Lich was younger than any of them had expected.

  “Please, I’m sorry.” the man wept.

  “No!” Matthew screamed again, grabbing the bottom half of the man’s face with the banded arm. The lich’s muffled scream responded to the growing heat.

  “Wait, Matthew!”

  Pop! The lich’s headless body fell as Matthew whipped the gore from his fingers.

  “You ruined him!” Zarraz said, sounding more disappointed than anything else. “We can only get two now.”

  “The fewer liches the better. Do what you have to do Zarraz, but take those damned cloaks off of them. Don’t need the extra attention.” Matthew, seething, climbed back on the wagon to see Benji and Sarah staring with horror and disgust. “What?”

  “What’s gotten into you?” Sarah asked.

  “Me? What’s gotten into you? Lose your edge?”

  “Lose it? Matthew, I never had an edge like this! You are-”

  “Sarah,” Benji interrupted. “Look.” Benji pointed to Zarraz as he worked to reanimate the fallen Wrath Liches. Benji gagged when the man with the hole in his torso tried to stand, but lost some of his organs as he straightened. The corpse looked down at the slop of innards in confusion while Zarraz seemed to console it. Benji turned to check Sarah’s reaction but she was already off the wagon, waving goodbye as she walked back in the direction of the small town.