“Why?” Rachel repeated.

Kalia spoke a command, trying to seize control of the knife, but Rachel countered with a stern mandate, and Kalia’s effort dissolved, crushed by a superior will. Rachel angled the knife away as the acolyte doubled over, writhing in pain. The failed commands were taking a heavy toll.

“When did you get so good?” Rachel demanded. “You never moved objects.”

I never spoke in silence, either. The furious words burned in Rachel’s mind. He should have given the order earlier, before you had so much training. I could have taken you when you first arrived. I know I could have!

Who ordered this? Rachel pressed.

Use your imagination, Kalia communicated, her rage diminishing. My only solace is that he’ll get you yet. I chose the winning side. He asked too much of me at the wrong time. Bad for me. But it won’t save you. Mark my words. He’ll get you all.

You work for Maldor?

He’ll kill every last one of you!

Galloran burst into the room, his blindfold off, his torivorian sword drawn, several treefolk and human guards following in his wake. He looked from Rachel to Kalia. I sensed a great deal of Edomic in use.

Kalia jabbed the long needle into her thigh.

What have you done? Rachel asked.

Another inane question! How does such a simpleton access so much power? It’s infuriating! It’s disgusting! Kalia began to convulse. Red foam frothed from her lips.

“She tried to kill me,” Rachel explained, turning away in horror and disgust.

Galloran took her lamp, set it aside, then wrapped his arms around her. Rachel felt embarrassed that he must feel her trembling. But she was not embarrassed enough to reject the comfort. I’m so sorry, Rachel. I never would have guessed Maldor could have planted an assassin at Mianamon.

Where can’t he come after us? This is the one place in Lyrian where I felt safe!

The sad truth is that no place in Lyrian is secure anymore, no matter how remote. And the problem will only worsen. We’ve been planning to leave soon. Let’s make it tomorrow. We have stood still for too long.

Rachel clung to Galloran, wishing she could disappear. Kalia had set a trap and tried to kill her!

A man covered from head to toe in moss brought the knife and the iron spike to Galloran. “Both poisoned. Giantsbane. Just like the needle.”

“Later,” Galloran said. He waved a hand. “Leave us.”

The men and treefolk exited the training room.

“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” Galloran said again, still holding her.

Rachel felt bad for the amount of pain in his voice. “It wasn’t your fault. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“I was a fool for allowing you to room so far from the rest of us. I should have foreseen this possibility. Thank goodness you saved yourself. I could feel the strength behind her commands. This traitor was no novice. I did not know that any Edomic adepts of her ability remained. She must have hidden here for a long while.”

“More than thirty years,” Ulani said, entering the room. She glared bitterly at the fallen acolyte, then shifted her attention to Rachel. “Are you all right?”

“I’m all right,” Rachel managed. “It’s all right.”

Galloran continued to hold Rachel close. “Maldor must have known we were preparing to leave. He wanted to strike before we departed.”

Rachel scowled a little, pulling back from the embrace. “Why didn’t the oracle know about her? Why didn’t Esmira see this coming?”

“I wish she had,” Galloran said.

“I never sensed any evil in Kalia,” Ulani said. “Nor did I perceive unusual power. Potential, yes, but unrealized. Perhaps Kalia knew how to shield her mind from scrutiny. Perhaps Maldor only got to her recently. We may never know. Esmira saw many things, but I can’t imagine she spent much time looking for traitors among us. We were too isolated, too united against the emperor and all he stands for.”

“He tried to kill me,” Rachel said in a small voice.

After a final hard look at the body on the floor, Galloran tied his blindfold in place. Apparently, he didn’t want any more details to reach Maldor through his displacer eyes. “Maldor would have rejoiced at your death. But he has some idea of your abilities. He should have recognized that this Kalia, although talented, was probably not up to the challenge. This attack may have simply been a test.”

Rachel huffed softly. “Rough test.”

“Maldor knows no gentle games.” Galloran put an arm around her shoulders. “Try not to let this rattle you. Take solace that you rose to the occasion. Thankfully, we’ve kept the details of the prophecy from all at Mianamon save Ulani. Even so, Maldor knows exactly where we are and may have deduced some of our intentions. As we embark on our quests, we’ll all have trials to face in the coming days. I fear this is only the beginning.”

CHAPTER 2

MIANAMON

From his perch hundreds of feet above the temple floor, Jason watched a pair of apes circle each other, quarterstaves held ready. The simian combatants stepped gingerly, slender torsos hunched, long limbs coiled. The taller of the white gibbons stood roughly the same height as Jason. Screeching and hooting, they rushed together, elongated forms wielding the staffs with fluid agility. Many other apes watched the duel, close-set eyes fixed on the fiercely clacking rods.

The white gibbons had been engineered by Certius, the ill-fated wizard who had made his home in the southern jungles of Lyrian. Although the gibbons lacked the power of speech, they had surprising intelligence, and communicated with humans using hand gestures.

Iron lattices covered many of the higher walls and ceilings within the Temple of Mianamon. The gibbons could travel across the framework with careless grace, leaping and swinging, dangling from hands or feet, heedless of the potential fall. They mostly resided on lofty shelves near the summit of the temple. Jason had made it up here using a cramped system of tunnels, stairways, and ladders.

Observing the apes was one of his favorite pastimes at Mianamon. He had taught them to hold batting practice using quarterstaves and citrus fruit. He could seldom get an ape to strike out. Changeups worked best.

Today the brawling apes failed to distract Jason. Rods cracked, gibbons hooted, but he watched from a distance, alone, his mind far from the playful sparring. After several months, this would be his last day at Mianamon. Within hours he would part with Rachel and Galloran and many of his other friends. Their season of rest and preparation had been shattered when Rachel was ambushed last night. With little warning, suddenly they had to leave.