An expectant silence fell over everyone. The two mages at the top watched expectantly as the young boy walked up the steps. The boy’s physique and movements were familiar.

  Too familiar.

  “I’ll also take the oath,” Salamin called, stepping forward.

  The mages regarded him. “You’re a bit young. There is food, gold and a ride out of town. Why don’t you go back to your family with honor?”

  “No, I want to take the oath,” Salamin repeated. The other boy eyed him, and Salamin knew. The eyes were a different color now, and the mark on her cheek was gone. Her long black hair was chopped off. It was Lane.

  He held her gaze for a brief moment.

  “Kneel and hold out your wrists, initiates.”

  It was just the two of them now. What did they want with their blood? Salamin did as they asked, as did Lane. He could see her arms trembling.

  “Speak your names,” the mage commanded.

  “Lane Reval,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “Do you, Lane Reval, swear fealty to the Path, the Order and to our Lord Haldar?”

  “Yes, I do,” Lane said, her voice stronger now.

  The blade glowed deep red, and Salamin could feel the energy flowing through it. It was a spell of binding, and what the consequences might be in this instance, he wasn’t sure.

  The blade swept down and over her wrists, slicing the skin. Lane bit her lip as the blood oozed from her wrist into the chalice.

  Behind them, the two brothers took one look at the blood and took off for the cart.

  It was Salamin’s turn.

  “Speak your name, boy,” the mage commanded.

  Salamin held his gaze. He’d use the boy’s name, as it was the truth. “Sedwick Draken.”

  The mage repeated the oath, and Salamin accepted it. The blade stung as it hit his skin, and he felt no pain at first. Then burning as the blood flowed over his wrists. Tears streamed to his eyes, and he could see the red of the blade pulsing in his inner vision.

  [Tier 3] The words appeared through all the pain. The message from the dead path.

  [Blessing from the Goddess, you have received Getore]

  Sedwick Draken ? Moonpath Tier 3 ? Class Paladin

  Health 30/100 ? Intelligence 20/100 ? Power 3/100 ? Stamina 20/100

  Abilities: Lunapassus (Minor Healing Spell) Oblivio (Confusion) Getore (Shield)

  Both their blood was collected into a small chalice, and then a mage attended to their wounds.

  A thrill passed through Salamin. His powers were growing, but he had never heard of the new spell. He pressed the question in his mind.

  [Blessed one, Getore will provide a shield around you, depending upon strength and tier. Strongest on the full moon]

  Salamin nodded to himself.

  “You will need to be cleansed and then you will enter the Keep with the other Initiates. You two are the last before the awakening.”

  Salamin caught Lane’s eye, and she looked away.

  The grand entrance of the Keep towered over their heads, and cracked open at the head mage’s command, then a long low grating of iron on iron as the gates came open.

  “Enter potentiates, it will be one week before the Initiation. Igar will assist you for the cleansing rites tonight, and you will get more information. Follow him.”

  He eyed Salamin and then Lane and motioned for them to come silently.

  Salamin gazed up at the impressive stonework and vaulted ceiling that stretched forever overhead. Torches flickered along the walls, casting shadows on the life sized statues of knights lining the corridor.

  They followed silently behind the robed mage. Salamin looked at the multitude of weapons displayed on the side wall. Maces, swords, long bows, and weapons of every kind were ready and waiting to be used.

  The mage came to a stop at a small door. “You will clean up in here, and change into the white robes. Meditate upon your oath until I return for you.”

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  Salamin glanced at Lane. She was not giving him eye contact. They both entered the small chamber, and the door slammed shut behind them.

  There were no windows, and only an oil lamp half burned on a side table. A tub of cold water sat at the side, and two white robes.

  Placing his ear to the door, Salamin heard the footsteps leading away. They were alone, and Lane had turned her back to him. He tried the door, and it was locked from the outside.

  “Lane, what are you doing?” he asked.

  She straightened and faced him. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

  Salamin nodded. There was no time to argue. “Lane I need to tell you. Aleda is gone,” Salamin said out loud. “She passed this morning.”

  Lane froze, her eyes wide with horror. “What do you mean? That can’t be true.”

  “She gave her life to protect us.”

  Lane turned and faced the wall and was silent, her shoulders heaving. She turned, her eyes glistening with tears. “How? How did it happen?”

  “It was the curse.”

  “Why?” Lane asked. “Why would she do that? Did you do this to her?” She glared at Salamin, then blinked. The tears were winning, and she turned away. She slumped down and curled in on herself. “Aleda,” she whispered.

  “She did it to defeat Haldar,” Salamin said. “She did it to protect you. One of her last wishes was for you to return home to safety.”

  Lane shook her head, her eyes narrowed. “She always underestimated me. I’m going to get into the Order one way or another.”

  Salamin raised his hands in surrender. If there was one thing he could do to honor Aleda’s sacrifice, it would be to keep Lane safe. Her brother was dead anyway. Salamin was sure of it. “Let me go in your stead. I promise I will do everything I can to find your brother.”

  Lane glared at him. “I can tell when people are lying, Sal.” She sneered his name as she looked him up and down. “ I also know that people have their own agendas. You go your own way, I’m fine on my own.”

  Salamin nodded, and motioned to the room. “The chances of surviving this are very slim. I don’t want you to suffer the same fate as your brother. Aleda said your people need you.”

  “They need my brother, not me.” Lane did not turn to face him. “I will find him.”

  Silence fell over the room with her words, and the oil lamp flickered. Salamin looked at the lamp. The oil was running low and wouldn’t last much longer. “We need to wash up and change, we’re losing the light.” The chamber was bare save for the water basin and the robes. A sensation washed over him. One of suffocation and panic.

  Carefully, he tried the door again, and it didn’t budge. Salamin drew several deep breaths and centered himself. He couldn’t let Lane see this new weakness. Once the oil ran out, the darkness would be absolute.

  He felt the orb in his pocket, smooth on his fingertips. He’d need to hide it.

  “Your hand is healed,” Lane said, and Salamin realized she was watching him. “How did Aleda do it?”

  Salamin gazed down at his charred right hand. It hadn’t changed. “It’s the disguise,” he said. “They can’t see my true oath, and I’m thinking they can’t see my cursed hand.”

  They were expected to get into the white robes. He tore a piece of cloth from his tunic. He’d use that to secure the orb around his leg.

  “Sal, who are you?” Lane asked, still watching him.

  Salamin opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “Nothing adds up. Nothing,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest. “Tell me how you know of the Devold?”

  The light flickered again, and went out, covering the room in deep darkness. “Not now,” he whispered. “They’ll be back any moment. We need to get ready.”

  Lane swore under her breath and splashed a hand into the water. “It’s ice cold,” she said and gritted her teeth. “Those trikkin mages, I’ll kill them all.”

  Salamin turned away from her as she cleaned her face and changed into the robe. Then it was his turn.

  He felt his way through the chamber, and his foot hit the tub. He dipped his left hand into the icy cold, and then his right. When his charred hand hit it, he felt something. The water was spelled. With what? What kind of magic were they dealing with?

  Then he saw it clearly in his mind. It was a truth spell. He would need to be cautious. And they would know if he didn’t use it.

  Slowly, he rinsed off, letting the icy water touch his skin, and he put on the light white robe. He was cold after the water, and the robe did little for warmth. He rubbed his arms, trying to warm up.

  The attempt didn’t work, and he covered his legs with his tunic, and still the cold hit deep inside of him. He heard Lane’s teeth chatter from somewhere to the side. In the dark silence, they both sat.

  His stomach rumbled its displeasure. The hunger and cold were both hitting his body. Closing his eyes, Salamin focused and tried to regain his center. His own Master had taught him meditation, and somehow this new mind was resistant. The instant he emptied his mind, there would be flashes of memory.

  Memories that were not his own. He felt himself getting beaten up by two men. From the memories he knew they were Sedwick’s step-brothers. Sedwick was left for dead in a deep, dark place. A shiver of panic flashed through him, and he wanted to call out for help. In the memory, Sedwick knew he was alone. There was no one to call out to.

  Salamin’s eyes snapped open. Meditation would do no good. He shivered and felt the weight of the dark close in on him.

  He heard a voice in the darkness, clear as a bell singing quietly. It was Lane in the beautiful shadowtongue.

  She will never leave us in the depths alone

  We are but her children, clung to blood and bone

  The tears we shed are never for naught

  For in those sacred arms, we are forever caught

  The strange images of another life disappeared at her words. Salamin took his first full breath and relaxed his shoulders.

  The peace lasted only a moment.

  He centered his mind, and an image of Haldar appeared before him. Born to be a leader, his tall stature, jutting chin and charismatic eyes. Salamin gasped. Those dark eyes stared at him, accusing Salamin of betrayal. Traitor, Haldar said, the words searing painfully into his mind. It was not true, but it was too late. The man he knew was no more. He heard Haldar’s curse and felt it pierce his mind.

  Lane’s voice penetrated the darkness with a different song.

  She comes in soundless moonbeams

  Touching us with an invisible hand

  To wash away our sorrows and cares

  And gather us close in her warm embrace.

  Salamin focused on her voice, and Haldar’s face flickered away, as did the memory of the curse. The cold dissipated, and for the first time in a long time, he was able to clear his mind of thoughts.

  It felt like an eternity when finally footsteps echoed outside in the hall. They were coming.