Chapter 1

Red, everything was red. It oozed and dripped and covered everything. It pressed down over him, stifling him. Moans rang all around. There were shrieks of pain and then silence. Suddenly there were hands, dozens of them, grabbing, pinching, lifting him.

With a gasp, Torren sat up in the tree-deepened darkness. His blue-gray eyes flickered around him, the feeling of those hands still with him as his breath rushed wildly in and out. A few burning embers in the small pit from his fire twinkled back at him, showing him he was alone.

His pack and boots were still leaning against the large maple closest to him. His sword was in its scabbard at his side, as he'd left it, within easy reach. His breathing slowed, these facts, one by one, calming him. The perspiration on his sun weathered face and arms turned cold and made him shiver. The last tendrils of the dream left him.

Wiping at his face and close-cropped blond, almost white hair, he flicked his blanket aside and climbed to his bare feet. Chiding himself as he took yet another look around to make sure he was alone, he hobbled over to his pack to change his sodden shirt.

The dream—the memories—they hadn't visited him in over a year. He'd actually started to hope they were gone for good this time. They were an annoyance and a horrid reminder of things he'd rather forget. Not that he ever could.

He wasn't sure if it was due to the fact he'd not suffered the dream in a long time, but this time it felt sharper, more immediate than ever before. He thrust the thought aside, not wanting to look at it too closely.

Pulling his shirt over his head, he shuddered as the night breeze touched his skin. Setting the shirt out to dry over a low branch, he quickly retrieved another out of his pack and slipped it on. With a grimace, he sat down on his damp blankets, not sure he could sleep again. He glanced up through the overhanging branches of the maple up at the sky. Two of the three moons were still visible. He sighed, figuring he still had about six hours left before dawn.

Tomorrow, if he was lucky, he would run across a farm or other travelers on the road and possibly hear more rumors about the happenings up toward the northern border. A set of mountains stood between the boundary of the Empire and the country of Galt. For generations it had helped maintain an uneasy peace between the two; the trouble of moving massive armies over the few passes carved through the mountains and the likelihood of ambush while doing so too risky to make it worthwhile. Recently though, it seemed matters had changed. Whispers of war were in the air. Forces were supposedly gathering near the border. Weapon sales had increased. If half of what he'd heard so far was true, there was a good chance he'd be able to offer his services in the area as a bodyguard or mercenary and perhaps get an even better than average wage.

Torren frowned as a slow shadow crossed before the smaller of the two moons. He stared at it, the long mass cutting across the bright surface as it drifted through the sky—it was one of the floating cities of El. The moonlight gleamed off some of its tall spires, making them appear like gleaming jewels. As he watched, the protective field over the island shimmered like stardust.

The floating cities of El—home to his people, the Chosen. A culture apart from the rest, living on their islands and high reaches where no mere mortals tread. A fantasyland paradise, if you believed what half of those living on the ground adhered to, though in truth no Lander had ever been within the floating cities.

The Empire still spent inordinate amounts of money trying to figure out how to tap the magic which kept the islands aloft and shielded them from the weather. Others tried to worship El instead, since he supposedly created the islands for his people as gifts, before being closed off from the world like the other gods by the First Mother. Neither method had yet to bear any fruit for their efforts.

He was sure the other empires of the world were probably doing much the same as well. Though the Shirak Empire had little contact with those across the wide oceans, the Chosen did. And somehow he doubted those other countries' feelings about them could be too far from those felt here. As far apart as the continents lay, and the treachery of the waters, gaining the secret of the islands or their flying ships would be a boon to whoever could replicate their secrets. Then the Chosen would not be the only ones linking the world in trade.

With a snort, he lay back down and turned away from the sight. First the dream and now this—would he never be free of them? He had no need of those places—or of their kind. Yet, though he'd turned away from the moving island, he could still feel the pull of the Chosen city as it traveled across the sky, almost as if it were calling out to him. He closed his eyes, trying his best to shut the feeling out with little success. Still the island's presence, the fact he'd had the dream again, and knowing he was close to the area where...

Torren abruptly stiffened, dropping his train of thought as a faint rustling sound came from somewhere behind him. He sat up and turned, his hand automatically reaching for his scabbard. He'd half risen, partially drawing his blade, when a figure burst out from the darkness and plowed into him in a tangle of arms and legs.

He fell back, and using the momentum, grabbed the intruder and flipped him to the ground, pinning him under his weight. So he was slightly taken aback as he looked down at the face of his attacker in the dim light and saw what appeared to be a frightened young girl. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked her gruffly.

Wide eyes stared at him unseeing even as the girl struggled vainly to get out from under him. Her breath came in harsh gasps, her arms and face scratched and bleeding from running through the brush.

He kept her pinned, wondering what someone like her was doing out here at this time of night. He assumed she came from a nearby farm, not much else being out there. Unfortunately the fire had burned too low to see anything clearly aside from her sex. Slowly, the girl's struggles eased, her gaze actually focusing on him for the first time. Tears welled up in her large eyes as her gaze locked with his own. "Help me. Please help me."

He released her, sitting down beside her in an attempt to keep her calm. "Are you being chased?"

The girl sat up, a shudder running through her as she did so, her arms wrapping themselves around her. She nodded. "I lost them, I think. But..."

Picking up his sword and scabbard, he strapped them on as he stood, staring in the direction she'd come from. If the girl was being followed, her pursuers couldn't be far behind. There were no sounds heralding their presence yet, but he knew he'd still have to work quickly. Anyone about at this time of night couldn't be up to much good.

"Grab the blankets and go stand by that tree." He pointed from the ground over to the maple his pack was leaning against. Turning away, he put on his boots and then with his foot, quickly pushed dirt back over the fire pit. With a faint hiss and rising smell of ashes, the embers were buried, what little light they'd been emitting gone. He then shoved leaves over the newly covered hole and waved at the air around him to dispel any of the remaining smoke.

Still keeping an ear to the muted night sounds around him, he hurried back to the large tree where the girl stood waiting for him. Cloaked in shadow, she was huddled against the tree's massive trunk, holding the blankets she'd retrieved as a shield against her chest.

"Come on," he told her, "time to climb up."

The girl, who only reached about the height of his shoulder, only stared blankly at him at his words. Torren frowned. "We need to climb this tree. You don't want to be found, right?"

She shook her head rapidly from side to side, yet made no move to do as he'd asked.

Trying hard not to let his irritation show on his face, he yanked his damp shirt off the tree limb and shoved it into his pack. Turning to look at the girl again, he slung the pack onto his shoulders. She hadn't moved, her large eyes staring at him intently. He sighed silently, figuring he'd have to do this the hard way.

Coming close, he grabbed her by her small waist, eliciting a surprised gasp from the girl. Ignoring it, he lifted her upwards. She gasped again and let go of the blankets, raining them down like leaves on his head.

Trying not to become even more annoyed than he was already, he spoke to her again. "Grab a limb and climb up. Do it now!"

Feeling her body finally going up, he let go of her and pulled the blankets off his head and then settled them on his shoulder. After a moment, he climbed up after her. The scent of the tree's bark was strong. "Keep going. You need to get up into the thickest part of the canopy."

Without a word, the girl scurried upward into the higher branches of the tree without much trouble. The leaves barely rustled as she passed.

"That's far enough." He was forced to reach out and grab her by the ankle as it looked as if she would keep going until she reached the top of the tree and beyond. "Sit there."

Timidly, the girl drifted back down and nestled herself where he pointed. Three limbs jutted out from a thick, central branch, making a seat Torren hoped she'd have a hard time falling out of. Making sure she was secure and looked to be staying put, he then found a place for himself.

"Here, cover yourself with this. It'll make you harder to see." He handed over one of the blankets, already having trouble making her out amongst the foliage. The girl quickly wrapped herself inside it, her teeth chattering softly.

Shaking his head as he watched her, he took the second blanket and wrapped it around himself. When he was done, he ignored her, instead concentrating his senses on the wooded landscape below. If the girl was being chased, her pursuers were late. If they were lucky, she'd lost them in the brush, but it was best to make sure.

After several long minutes, the crickets, which had grown silent at her abrupt arrival and later started up again, went suddenly silent once more. A curse echoed through the small clearing.

"Why would she have come this way?"

Torren stiffened at the sound of the annoyed voice, not having sensed the stranger's presence until then. He glanced over at the girl and saw her duck her head inside the blanket in fear.

"She's stupid? How should I know?" said a second voice sounding even more annoyed than the first.

"She won't be running through all this for long though, that's for sure." The first one snorted. "Never seen anyone run so fast."

"Fear's a great motivator." The second man paused. "I think she may have gone this way." The two men's voices drifted closer. More curses colored the night as they were forced to deal with the brush.

Torren silently removed his sword from its sheath and then the large knife hidden in his boot. He considered giving the girl the dagger in his pack but then rejected the idea. She was more likely to hurt herself with it than them.

The two men shoved their way out of the bushes into the small clearing and stopped.

He watched them, not able to make out much about them in the dark. One of the two scrunched closer to the ground. "Which way?" asked the other.

The first was silent for almost a full minute as he tried to study the ground around him. "It's too dark. The signs aren't clear."

"Dek is not going to want to hear this."

The first snorted. "You don't know how lucky we've been to have been able to follow her this far."

The other grunted in reply, not at all happy. "What now?"

Torren tensed.

The first rose to his feet. "We go back. What else? If Dek still wants to find her, we can try to pick up her trail again in the morning."

"So much for this easy job." The two men started back the way they'd come.

He slowly felt himself relax.

The fact they'd been able to track her at all from the road at night meant they were good. If they'd brought a light with them, they would have surely been able to tell where she'd gone and he'd have had no choice but to fight them. Still, the girl was surely a farmer's daughter. The closest town was a few days away, so why would people of such skill be after someone like her?

He shook his head. It didn't matter. What did was that they'd be back. Once they examined the area in daylight, they'd realize the girl ran across someone. This would change the rules of the game. Depending on why they wanted her, they might decide to take offense at the fact he'd seen her. The more distance he could put between himself and these men before they came back, the better.

"It's time to go."

The covered lump that was his unexpected guest didn't move. For a long moment, Torren considered just leaving her there. He knew he wouldn't, but he considered it all the same. With an irritated sigh, he got off his perch and reached over to remove the blanket from her head.

As he threw the corner of it off her, she jumped in her seat with a small squeal.

"If you don't want them to find you, we have to go. Now." He pointed to the ground and after a moment, she scampered down away from him with wide eyes. Though she wasn't what he'd call graceful, it looked as if she'd had experience climbing trees before.

Following at a more sedate pace, he descended, trying to go over their options. Traveling through the trees at night would be difficult, and he didn't know of any convenient streams nearby which they could use to hide their trail. If he wanted to get away, it seemed they'd have no choice but to use the road. There would be nothing there to trip over and the packed ground should hide any traces of their passing. Even better, he would use the pursuers own trail to get back to the road to make things even more difficult for them in the morning—that would work just fine.

Torren glanced over at where the girl stood waiting for him, still huddled in the blanket. "Stick close to me. We're going to make our way back to the road."

The girl stiffened before him, her face looking pale and wan in the moonlight. "No..."

His brow went up. "Suit yourself. You can stay here if you want. But they'll definitely find you in the morning." He shrugged when she said nothing and started on his way, not caring whether she followed one way or the other. If she didn't want his help, so be it.

He hadn't gone far before he heard her struggling to catch up.

In less than ten minutes, they made their way back to a wide dirt road. Though not one of the Empire's stone highways, the road was broad and followed a well-used route. Before stepping onto it, he glanced up and down the road to make sure the girl's two pursuers were nowhere near. Spotting no one, he left the shelter of the surrounding trees and started north. A minute or so later, the girl also left the concealment of the trees and followed after him.

Quietly, the two of them made their way down the empty road. Shadows played in the moonlit darkness to either side but Torren ignored them, keeping his senses primed for living threats.

They traveled down the road for over an hour and saw nothing and no one. Figuring he'd gone far enough to distance them from his old camp, he stopped and waited for the girl. He watched her as she came up and almost bumped into him, her figure half bent as she worked only at putting one foot in front of the other.

"We're getting off the road here," he informed her. The spot he'd chosen was bare of bushes or small plants and looked to be hard enough where they wouldn't leave much of a lead trail. Unless her pursuers had brought sniffers with them, which he doubted, they'd be hard pressed to find where the two of them went off the road. "Step where I step."

He stared hard at the ground as they left the road, trying to choose their trail carefully. He avoided plants or places of soft earth, for a cracked branch or indentation would give them away to one with skill. When he felt they'd gone far enough away from the road, he searched for a place for them to stop.

Finding a likely spot, he gratefully let his pack fall from his shoulders. "We'll be staying here until morning. I suggest you get what sleep you can." Without saying anything else, he stepped over to a nearby tree and sat down to keep watch for a while. The girl didn't move from where she stopped, but instead slouched down onto the ground and then curled up into a ball with the blanket and fell asleep.

He slowly shook his head as he watched her do this and then stared off into the night.

Chapter 2

As the sun rose and its light permeated through the trees, Torren stood up and stretched. His previous dream may have driven all thought of sleep from his head, but at least keeping guard through the rest of the night had let the time pass more effectively. He'd long ago gotten used to sleeping little. He reached over for his pack and brought out some wrapped cheese and bread he'd bought from a farmer a couple of days ago. This part of the Empire was filled with farms and small towns, running almost to the border. They were usually willing to part with some of their gains for coin or labor. Though the prairie fields farther south brought in most of the grain used by the empire, wood and vegetables, mostly corn, as well as fruit were the contributions of this area to the whole.

Taking the food, he walked over to the blanket bundle on the ground and scrunched down next to it.

"It's time to wake up." He shook the sleeping figure with the back of his hand as he spoke. He jerked back in shock, as the blanket suddenly exploded before him as she sat up with a start.

The girl's wide eyes darted in every direction at once, looking totally disoriented. Panic covered her face as she finally turned to look at him and she appeared as if she might bolt.

"Forgot me already, have you?" He asked her with some sarcasm. "Run off if you want, thought I would have thought you'd rather have some breakfast." He tore off a piece of the hard bread and popped it into his mouth.

"You, you're the one who helped me?" The girl eyed him warily as if afraid to believe this might be so.

He watched her half-amused and half-annoyed, thinking surely he didn't look that bad. There were a number of women who thought him quite handsome. "Do you want food or not?"

Slowly, as if afraid of committing herself, the girl nodded. He tore a chunk off the bread and part of the cheese and held them out to her.

After a moment, she took them from him, making sure she didn't touch him. She got up, and dragging the blanket with her, shuffled several feet away from him before sitting back down to eat.

Torren ate his own meal, studying his impromptu guest fully for the first time. She was young, so much was obvious, no more than fifteen summers was his guess. Her hair was long, tied in a disheveled braid, its sandy blond color much darker than Torren's almost white blond. Her face was long, her mouth and lips small, but her eyes were large. She possessed long, gangly arms and legs. Her skirt was homespun and went down to her ankles, but the cotton shirt was of better quality, with short sleeves which reached to her elbows. She also wore a small vest of dark brown with red flowers stitched around the border. A blue pin caught the light at the end of her braid and looked expensive. Though a little better dressed than he would have expected, she still looked like a farmer's daughter. Overall, she was unassuming and average looking, her open, sky-blue eyes the only feature which stood out about her at all.

Nothing he saw explained why men would have chased her into the night. Not that it mattered.

"Could I, could I have a little more?" Her eyes gazed at him, her fear and hesitation quite clear.

He tore another piece of bread for her. "Thirsty?"

The girl nodded as she gingerly came forward to reach for the offered bread. She took it from him and scooted back quickly as he rose to his feet. He felt her staring after him.

Torren took a deep drink and then walked toward her to hand her the water skin. She took it eagerly. He stepped back, watching her drink, wondering what he was going to do with her. "So, why were those men after you?"

The girl choked at the question, her gaze darting around as if the mere mention of her pursuers would bring them there.

"Well?" He tried not to sound impatient, but was having a hard time of it.

The girl set the water skin down and stared at her lap. "I-I don't know." Her whole body tensed. "I was sleeping and my, my aunt, she woke me up and, and told me to dress. I asked her why, but she wouldn't tell me, she just told me to hurry." Now that she'd started talking her words came out faster and faster. "When I was done, I started toward the door but she stopped me. She, she told me to go out the window."

Her eyes filled with tears. Torren suddenly felt uncomfortable. "She pushed me toward it, telling me she loved me, telling me to hurry. She was whispering; she sounded afraid. It scared me, so I did as she said. When I had climbed out the window, she told me to run."

He frowned, not liking where this story was going. He told himself again this had nothing to do with him.

"I didn't run," the girl said, sounding utterly miserable. "I tried to argue with her. I knew something wasn't right and I just couldn't go. And then, that's when the door to my room slammed open and my aunt turned around and attacked the stranger there." She took a tattered breath. "He, he hit her. She fell. And then, then I, I ran and ran, until..." She stared at her hands her voice shrinking to nothing.

"What's your name?"

She glanced up at him, looking surprised. "L, Larana."

Torren nodded. "And do you know where you are now, Larana?"

She stared at him for a long moment and then slowly shook her head.

"All right then," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm heading north, in the direction of Caeldanage, and I'm willing to have you along until we either run across your home or come across a farm or town where we can find someone willing to take you there."

Larana just stared at him saying nothing.

"Of course, if you prefer, you can go wherever you want on your own."

She looked away shaking her head repeatedly.

He nodded. "By the way, my name is Torren." Though she flinched away as he came close, he paid no attention to her reaction and retrieved the water skin. He made his way back to his pack. "If you're up to it, we should get going now."

Larana nodded quickly and rose to her feet. After dusting herself of leaves and dirt, she grabbed the blanket she'd slept in the night before and briskly snapped it in the air twice before folding it neatly and then meekly bringing it over to him. "I'm ready."

He took the blanket without comment and wrapped it into a roll with the other, attaching them to the bottom of his pack. He glanced up past the trees, getting his bearings from the rising sun and set off, heading north.

He didn't lead them back to the road, but stayed in the lightly forested area. The going was harder this way, but Larana didn't complain though it was obvious at times she was hard pressed to keep up.

When he called for a stop hours later, he saw the girl drop to the ground in relief. "Stay here."

"Where—where are you going?" Larana straightened up quickly, fear flooding through her face as if she thought he meant to leave her.

Noticing the reaction, he gave her a quizzical and slightly irritated look. "I'm going to lay a false trail. I'll be back soon."

He left the girl looking alone and forlorn to take care of business. He hoped this wasn't an indication of a long and nerve-wracking trip.

Retracing their path a short way, he set about to erase as many clues of their passing as possible. Going back to where he started when he was done, he set off in a different direction, leaving clues they could follow but not making them too obvious or they'd realize what he'd done. As soon as he reached an area where a trail would be hard to find, he went back a different way, being as careful as he could not to leave any trace.

When he returned to where he'd left the girl, he found her pacing, staring deeply out into the area around her. As soon as she spotted him, he saw her face light up with relief. "You're back!"

Torren scowled, knowing he'd told her he'd return. He retrieved the water skin from his pack and took a long swallow. As an after thought, he offered it to her. In her eagerness to get it, she almost tripped over herself. His scowl deepened but he said nothing as he handed over the skin.

Larana drank the water gratefully, her cheeks filled with a touch of red. "Thank you."

He shrugged and took the skin from her. "Let's go."

After a short while, the leaf-strewn floor gave way to a small path going almost perpendicular to their direction. Torren stopped and glanced both ways up the path and then prepared to go across it.

"Wait!" Larana jumped forward and grabbed at his sleeve. She immediately let go as he turned to glare at her with irritation.

"What is it?" he demanded.

His annoyance grew as the girl hesitated, staring up and down the trail as if looking for the right words.

"I-I think I know this path. It's a shortcut."

He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. "To where?"

He watched as the girl bit her lower lip and glanced up and down the trail again, looking unsure.

"It's a shortcut to the stream," she said finally. "It's where we get our water." She pointed to the left side of the trail. "My home is this way."

Torren glanced down the way she pointed. "Are you sure?"

He saw her bite her lip again. "N-no."

He stared up the path again. Though he suspected the men last night were even now trying to pick up her trail, there was a chance one may have stayed behind, waiting for her at her home, to make sure she didn't return. Then again, it was almost as likely there wasn't one. If her family was still there, though, he could leave the girl with them, leaving him to go on his own again. Whatever problems they were having with these men, they could sort them out themselves. "All right. We'll follow it for a short while and see if it grows more familiar."

Larana nodded in thanks and then took off to lead the way. He followed at a more sedate pace, shaking his head.

They'd not gone far before the girl turned around, a bright smile on her face. "This is it! I'm sure of it now." She ran off showing more energy than she'd held earlier.

As Larana hurried farther and farther ahead, Torren slowed, a strange smell tainting the pervading scent of growing vegetation. Was that smoke? And what about the other more subdued scent mixed in with it? "Larana!"

He sprinted up the path, a sense of dread rising inside him.

After a long bend in the path, the trees opened up into a clearing. He slowed as he spotted the girl standing at the end of the trail. She stood unmoving as he came closer, what she was looking at gradually coming into his field of view. The smells, which had first alerted him that something wasn't right, were growing stronger.

Before her, in the middle of the clearing, charred beams reached up toward the sky, resembling broken, crippled fingers. Thin trails of smoke rose from between them, proclaiming the cottage's recent demise.

Larana's gasping breaths echoed toward him as she stared at the destruction.

"Is this...?" He left the question unfinished, knowing it could be nothing else.

The girl took a half step forward, seemingly unaware he was even there. "Aunt Ban. Uncle Zed?" Her call reverberated around the clearing but she received no answer.

"Aunt Ban! Uncle Zed!" Larana called out again her voice fraying at the edges. "It's me, Larana. I've come back." Nothing disrupted the ensuing silence.

Torren felt his jaw clench, already knowing what she was yet unwilling to admit. "They're not here."

The girl turned on him, fire in her eyes. "They are! They wouldn't leave without me." Turning from him she ran out into the clearing, heading toward the small shed on the far side--the only thing in the clearing still standing. "Aunt Ban!"

He didn't watch her, instead approaching the burned out shell of the house, sure he knew where the girl's relatives could be found. Following his nose, he moved carefully through the rubble until he found the source of the acrid odor mingling with the smoke.

"Aunt Ban! Uncle Zed!" Larana's shouts were growing shrill, filling with dawning panic.

He stepped out of the ruins. "I've found them."

Larana stopped where she was and turned to look at him, a hopeful smile on her face. He saw her glance past him and watched as the smile slowly crumbled with inevitable understanding.

"No..." She shook her head slowly from side to side. "No." Her face filling with despair, the girl cut past him. He didn't try to stop her. He didn't watch as she stumbled into the rubble and shortly found the two burned and twisted bodies, which had, not long before, been her family.

"No!"

He glanced back at her cry of despair, despite his original intentions, and saw her fall to her knees. He stared at her shaking back as sobs racked through her body. Without a word, he turned away from her pain and walked to the shed on the other side of the clearing.

Setting his pack outside, Torren searched the shed's contents and came out carrying a shovel. Not once glancing in the girl's direction, he proceeded to dig a hole not far from the side of the small building. Perhaps he could do for her what he'd not been able to do for himself.

Sometime later, he wiped at his sweaty brow, having hollowed out a shallow grave. Climbing out of the hole, he set the shovel aside and reentered the shed to retrieve several large pieces of sackcloth.

Quietly, he reentered the burned remains of the house. Larana still sat where he'd last seen her, her eyes red and swollen, soot covering her clothes and face, dark tracks showing the path of her tears.

"I've dug a grave for them," he told her.

She slowly turned her head to look at him, her expression slack, her eyes glazed. It was hard to look at.

"If you'll move back, I'll wrap them up in this and then take them there." The sun was high in the sky, its light shining down on the manmade clearing. The stench from the bodies was growing stronger.

Her face vacant, Larana blinked several times and then stood up slowly to get out of his way.

What debris there'd been over the blackened bodies had been removed, though pieces of the corpses had come away with them. Suddenly, not wanting her exposed to this any more than necessary, Torren quickly laid a cloth over each one. His mouth a thin line on his face, he knelt down, gingerly tucked the cloth around the body of what he presumed to be Larana's aunt and lifted her in his arms.

The stench of the rotting, charred flesh multiplied as the body shifted. Momentarily, Torren closed his eyes, unwanted images flashing through his mind of another time. When he opened them again, his eyes were clear, but his expression grim. At least these two would have the benefit of a proper burial.

Larana followed him mindlessly to the grave as he took the body there. She knelt down in the grass, staring down into the hole as he set the wrapped body inside it. Glancing once in her direction, he left her there as he set out to retrieve her uncle.

After he'd settled the second body into the grave, he took a deep breath and spoke. "What gods did they believe in?"

She only stared at the grave.

He waited to see if she'd respond at all, but she said nothing. Sighing, he bent down long enough to take a handful of dirt and gently sprinkled it over the bodies. "May the First Mother take you to Her bosom and care for you." Saying nothing else, he picked up the shovel from where he'd left it and started filling in the grave.

Larana said nothing as he worked, but fresh tears streaked her soot-covered face.

Once he was done, he took a deep drink from the water skin and then got a small piece of sackcloth from his pack. After dampening it, he used it to mop at his face. "How far is the stream down this path of yours?" he asked.

She was still staring at the covered grave as if she could still see the bodies lying within. She said nothing.

He slowly shook his head and turned away. Taking a spare set of clothes out of his pack and a pail from the shed, he headed across the clearing without another word.

Following the path they'd come in, he soon came across a respectable stream. Setting the pail and his clothes to the side, Torren quickly stripped and hunkered down into the cool water. Small fish nibbled at his toes, but he never noticed them. Even as he washed his body and his dirtied clothes, all he could see was the soot covered, gangly girl staring at her relatives' grave.

When he returned, Larana was still exactly as he'd left her. Frowning and pushing back his damp hair, he studied her from the corner of his eye as he set the full pail he'd brought back inside the shed. He came back out to loom over her, his expression hidden. "We'll need to leave soon," he said darkly. "We've already been here longer than is prudent." He got no reaction. "I've brought some water so you can wash yourself."

Larana gave no indication she heard what he said.

Without preamble, he reached down and grabbed her arm, yanking the girl roughly to her feet. "We don't have time for this! They're dead. Deal with it." His voice was thick. "You've had time to mourn. That time's now over. Go clean up."

Her eyes widening with barely felt pain from her arm, she stared at him uncomprehendingly. Torren brusquely pulled her away from the grave and half pushed her into the shed. He grabbed a piece of sackcloth and after dunking it into the pail he thrust it into her hand. "Clean up."

When she still did nothing, the water dripping from the cloth in her hand to the ground, he took her hand and raised it and the wet cloth to her face. She gasped as the wetness touched her skin, her eyes suddenly focusing for the first time.

"Clean up." He kept his eyes locked on hers, moving the cloth across her forehead.

"Clean up." She pulled her hand from his, looking at the wet cloth held inside it. "Yes." She blinked several times as if slowly becoming aware of her surroundings.

"I'll wait for you outside." He watched her intently, strangely relieved to see life coming back into her face.

Larana nodded slowly, bringing the cloth back up to her cheek.

He nodded back and exited the shed to give her some privacy.

He waited for her beneath the shade of the large oak by the shed, studying the land and wondering why so many farms were built the same. From the remains of the house, he knew it'd been no more than a three-room building. It would have held a thatched roof, whitewashed sod walls, and a central chimney for preparing meals and heating the house in the winter months.

A small garden in the back would have been for common vegetables; the actual main fields farther off. A chicken coop would have sat against one side of the house and perhaps they'd owned a few goats or a mule, though there was no sign of either now. How similar it was to the place he'd spent the latter part of his youth—a place which had been both a prison and a haven to him.

Shaking himself out of the strange misplaced mood, he pushed away from the tree as he spotted Larana exiting the shed. Her face and arms were clean again, her hair damp and in place. Though she'd obviously also tried to clean the worst of the stains off her clothes, aside from wetting and spreading the soot, they didn't look much better. She approached him rather meekly. "I'm done."

He nodded and then glanced up at the sky. "We still have a few hours of daylight left, so we should cover as much ground as possible before it gets dark." She followed behind him as he stepped over to retrieve his pack. Though she appeared more normal, he also noticed the dark circles growing beneath her eyes.

"Do you have any relatives near here?" he asked her.

The girl looked away, her eyes turning sad. "No. I have no other family." Her gaze strayed to the mound where her aunt and uncle were buried. "I-I'm a foundling. Aunt Ban and Uncle Zed found me on the road."

Torren felt his right eye twitch. This story was starting to sound just a little too familiar for comfort. "I take it they had no relatives either?"

Larana shook her head no.

"I see." He felt the odd mood overtaking him again. "Let's go then." Without another word, he hefted his pack higher on his shoulders and set off the way they'd come.

Once they reached the point where they originally intersected the path, he didn't leave it but instead went on ahead and followed it to the stream. Once there, he took the time to refill their water skin. "Do you know if this connects to a river or a road?"

Larana nodded quickly. "Yes. There's a road, which runs east to west, some ways down. I wasn't allowed to go that far, but I did it once." She looked guilty at the admission.

He had traveled through this area a number of times over the years and thought he held a pretty good idea where the stream would take them. "Come on, then."

He stepped into the stream and started following its course upstream. The cool water reached about halfway up his boots. Larana hesitated long enough to remove her slippers and then went in after him.

Though the afternoon was warm, the girl was shivering by the time he called for a short break. Her teeth almost chattering, she slipped on a rock while stepping out and fell to her knees, getting her skirt and legs wet as well as the shoes she'd carried so far.

He frowned at her bumbling even as she looked up at him, her cheeks coloring. After a moment, he came forward and offered her his hand to help her up. As their hands touched, he felt a tickling in the back of his head and something akin to gratitude. "I'm very clumsy. Sorry for the trouble."

He let go of her hand as soon as she was on her feet, shaking his head at the strange feeling. "I think we'll be able to reach the road before nightfall."

Larana nodded, trying her best not to look cold. The circles he'd noticed on her eyes earlier were noticeably darker.

His face suddenly cleared as he made a decision, and the slight scowl, which normally hung about his face disappeared. Thought he wasn't aware of it, it shed years from his face. "We haven't eaten since this morning. Why don't we stay here a bit longer than usual and eat something to hold us over until we make camp?"

The girl nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a hunk of meat wrapped in waxed cloth. Taking out his boot knife, he cut portions for both of them.

He saw her wolf hers down after the first tentative bite. He was thinking of perhaps going ahead and giving her more when she enthusiastically licked her fingers, but hesitated as she abruptly stopped and tears formed in her eyes.

He knew loss was never easy. But it was best to just deal with it and then forget. "I'm sorry about your aunt and uncle, but you need to put their passing behind you. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing will bring them back no matter how much you want it. For your own sake, just forget about them."

Larana turned to look at him her face filled with shock. "How, how can you...?"

He stood up and slung his pack over his shoulder. "We'd better get moving."

In less than an hour, they found the place where the stream crossed the road. Thick planks had been set on the road to make a small bridge over the water. He climbed up and stopped on top of it, staring long and hard in both directions even as Larana moved to join him, her still damp shoes making squishing noises.

"Let's keep going just a short way," he said after a minute. "Then we'll get off the road and set up camp." He eyed Larana as she nodded tiredly and said nothing.

They didn't follow the road long before he led them off to the side. He penetrated the tall grass and brush just far enough to get them out of sight and then stopped. "This should do."

Grateful, the girl sat down by a tree with a sigh and removed her shoes so she could rub her tired feet. He chose another tree nearby and removed his pack before sitting down. He unhitched the blankets from the bottom of it and tossed one of them to her. He then removed the meat they'd shared earlier, as well as more hard bread and cheese, before dividing most of it between them.

As they ate, the sun disappeared from overhead and everything slowly plunged into deep shadows before being swallowed by darkness. A mere lump of deeper darkness across from him, he was caught off guard as Larana's voice whispered to him from across the way.

"Have you, have you lost a loved one too?"

He said nothing, not liking the question. There were things he didn't enjoy thinking about, let alone speak of them to a stranger. He grabbed his blanket and set it out on the ground. "You'd better get some sleep. We'll be starting out early in the morning." He lay down and turned his back to her, hopefully cutting off any further conversation. He stared out into the darkness, listening to her settle in before eventually drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 3

A heavy weight crashed upon them from above, pinning him and the others down. Dark clothed bodies rained on them from the closing darkness. Grinning bloodlust, answering fear. His father cutting in front of him, blocking his view—hastily trying to push him back. His angry expression changing to one of abrupt pain. His father falling on top of him, forcing him down, warm liquid splashing on his face and arms.

Suddenly freedom is his. But before he can try to flee, they close in, pushing him this way and that. And the hands, the hands reach for him, tearing at his clothes, at his body, drowning him with pain.

Torren sat up, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Fear chilled him, the echoes of past pain flooding his senses. Slowly, very slowly, the true night congealed before him, reality reasserting itself. The dream dissipated haltingly into the past where it belonged.

With lightly shaking hands, he pushed his clammy hair away from his face. It had come again. Why? It made no sense. It had been almost a year since the last episode, and now he'd had the dream two nights in a row. Would he never be rid of it? He twisted where he sat, feeling his sweat soaked shirt clinging to him.

Angrily, he shoved his questions aside and pulled off his shirt. Feeling out for his pack, he pulled out another. He didn't put the new one on right away though, letting the night air cool his body for him. When he felt calmer, more like himself, he slipped his arms into the shirt's sleeves. He was about to bring it up over his head when a soft touch caressed his back. Goose bumps rushed up his spine, a strange tingling sensation suffusing his body. A queer combination of feelings rushed through him, worry, curiosity, sadness.

For a moment, it was as if his body had been paralyzed even as his confused mind ran in frenzy through a dozen scenarios of bandits or creatures running across him in the night. Suddenly, he was free, the touch leaving him as unexpectedly as it had come. A strangled sob echoed from behind him.

Torren whipped around, his hand slipping out of his shirt and automatically reaching for the sword he'd left sheathed beside him.

"Those scars..." Larana's sorrow filled voice was barely audible yet froze him once more as if he were in the grip of whatever had just happened again. He could barely see the young girl's outline in the darkness, her words coming as if from a disembodied voice.

He shook his head, struggling to free himself of his paralysis even as he tried to make sense of what was happening. "They're nothing."

"That's not true!" She leaned forward, her voice filled with grief. "Pain, there was so much pain." She hid her face in her hands and wept almost as if his anguish were her own.

Torren stared, not knowing what to make of it. What kind of girl was this? How did she know these things? "What did you do to me?" The question came out as a harsh accusation.

She didn't answer, weeping quietly before him.

He reached for her arm, making sure not to touch her exposed skin. "Answer me!"

She looked up and though he could not see clearly, Torren could feel her gaze cutting through him. He let go of her. Confused and angry, he moved back and half turned away from her. "What did you do?"

After several long moments, Larana finally gave him an answer. "I-I'm not sure. It's just something that happens sometimes. I hadn't meant, I hadn't meant..." Her hand shook as it reached out toward him as if to touch him again.

"I suggest you don't do it again," he said gruffly. He pulled even farther away from her and slipped his shirt on. His mind in turmoil, he laid down with his back to her once more, willing for her to leave him alone.

She scooted away, sobbing softly. He wasn't sure if it was over his anger at her, the loss of her family, or his past pain. Why did he even care? He lay awake until the sounds of her weeping finally faded away.