Moon Man sat, and I tried to break his hold. His gaze met mine.

“Is that what you saw in the shadow world?” I asked.

“Yes.” Horror filled his eyes as the gruesome images replayed in his mind.

“Give the memories to me.” I felt his reluctance. “I will not forget them.”

“Will you help them?”

“Can’t you?”

“I can only help the living.”

“Are you going to tell me how or spout some cryptic bullshit?”

“You do not want to learn. You have refused to see what is all around you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Pain creased his face and the light in his eyes dulled. He would be unable to function with the dreadful knowledge of how his people suffered.

“Give them to me. I’ll try to help them, but not right now.” I mentally added soothing-the-dead-Sandseeds to the end of my long list of things to do. After I dealt with the Fire Warper, which should be a breeze. While I was lying to myself, I included flying and turning stones into gold to my list. Might as well think big.

Moon Man released the emotional turmoil of his visions. He wouldn’t forget the images, but they would no longer strangle him. I gathered his grief and guilt and anguish to my soul. So much carnage and blood. All to boost the Vermin’s power. So many dead. Too many. How to soothe those victims? Stopping the Vermin from increasing their strength might work. What if they tried again? Perhaps destroying the power blanket to keep everyone from using magic would work. A drastic and desperate measure that might not even be possible.

Letting go of my hand, Moon Man stood.

“What you said about my future. Is it true?” I asked.

“Yes. You will become a slave to another.” The discussion over, Moon Man returned to the campfire.

We ate the stew in silence. Packing up, we mounted and spurred the horses toward the Avibian border. When we reached the road located between the plains and the fields of the Greenblade Clan’s lands, we turned north toward the Citadel and slowed the horses to a walk. At this late hour, the road was empty.

Being out of the plains gave us at least an illusion of safety, but I wanted to ride a little farther before we stopped for the night.

The next three days dragged. With hardly a word spoken between the three of us, an awkward hush resulted as we traveled to the Citadel. Moon Man’s comment about my future repeated in my mind, grating on my nerves like a high-pitched squeal. I wanted to know who would force me to be a slave and when, but I knew Moon Man would reply with a cryptic remark and I wouldn’t be smart enough to figure it out. The air turned cold and damp as we went farther north, and one night sleet pelted us, making our ride miserable.

Seeing the welcome sight of the white marble walls of the city on the third day, I spurred Kiki into a gallop. Gone from the Keep for eighteen days, I missed Irys, my old mentor who answered my questions with a refreshing directness, and my friends at the Magician’s Keep.

After crossing the south entrance gate of the outer wall, we walked the horses through the streets of the Citadel. Puddles of icy muck peppered the walkways. Citizens hurried through the intermittent rain, and the grayness cast a mournful facade over the expanse of marble buildings. The smell of wet wool clung to the air. We aimed for the Council Hall, which was located with the other government buildings in the southeast quadrant of the Citadel.

Home? Kiki looked with longing at the four towers of the Keep.

Soon, I said. Rest here for now. A stable for the Councilors had been erected behind the building. At least you’ll be out of the rain. Once Kiki and Garnet were settled, we entered the hall.

A guard informed us a Council meeting had just finished and we should go in before the Councilors left for the day. Entering the Great Hall, I spotted Irys talking to Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician. Groups of Councilors and aides formed small knots and the noise of their discussions filled the room. By the harsh tones and strident voices, I sensed the discussion hadn’t gone well and an undercurrent of fear trembled against my skin.

Moon Man and Tauno went directly to their Councilman, Harun Sandseed. I hung back, not wanting to interfere with the Sandseeds. Irys hurried toward me. She wore her stern Fourth Magician expression. She was worried. I scanned the clumps of Councilors with more care and I discovered the reason for her concern.

Cahil stood with Roze Featherstone and another Councilor. He laughed and talked as if he belonged there.

16

I MOVED TO CONFRONT Cahil. He should be in the dungeon for aiding and abetting a murderer, not standing in the middle of the Great Hall having a conversation with Roze. My alarm increased when I saw a few Vermin inside the Hall.

Irys had other plans. She grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

“Now is not the time,” she said, appealing to me.

“What is going on?” I demanded.

Irys glanced around the room. A few Councilors stood close enough to overhear us, so she switched to our mental communication.

Cahil claims he’s been on an undercover mission this whole time, she said. He says that he didn’t free Ferde.

Why would anyone believe that? I asked.

Because Roze corroborated his story.

A lightning strike of shock ripped through my body. I hoped I misunderstood her. But her grim expression didn’t change.

It gets worse, she said. Cahil says he caught Marrok rescuing Ferde and, after interrogating him, Cahil discovered Ferde was on his way to rendezvous with others. Cahil followed the Soulstealer to discover what they plotted.