Bloodwalk

The room smelled strongly of ci

She circled, looking him up and down, admiring his strangely handsome features. "You chose well, Khaemil," she said finally, stopping in front of him and exploring the depths of his pearly eyes. "Almost too well." "Thank-you, Lady Morgy

"Shadows and light," she said thoughtfully. "And only the barest hint of a man beneath them." "The Pale Sisters have retreated, Lady Morgy

"Want to hear a secret?" Thunder again shook the walls, sending bones to clatter on the floor as the dusty piles shifted. Morgy

Horses pranced in place and snorted impatiently as Eli rode past, churning through the muddy puddles along the sides of the cobbled streets. Riders watched with grim countenances, holding back their steeds and awaiting the next call of the watchman's horn, the one that would send them to battle. Elisandrya pulled hard on the reins, stopping at the wall and looking up to the nervous face of the young hornblower. Dismounting and ascending the ladder, she expected to see the worst beyond the wall. Though she tried to shove images of massive armies and mounted cavalry out of her mind, they marched in her thoughts anyway. The unlikelihood of such a force in the Reach was not enough to quell anxious fear, that passing terror that grips all warriors before combat and pushes them to exceed their own expectations. Gripping the battlements, she peered into the dark, blinking past sheets of rain and racing lightning. What she saw in the distance was unlike anything she expected. Bobbing slightly, teetering from left to right along what could have been an invisible horizon, were tiny lights, some closer and closing, others following behind.

Some would blink out for a few moments and reappear, closer and more distinct as if jumping across miles in the space of a few heartbeats.

Small flickers of green flame, swinging in time to a steady march, all converged toward the walls of Brookhollow. "Should we sound the alarm, Lady Elisandrya? Prepare for battle?" The young watchman was shaking, though from fear or cold she could not tell. "Not yet." Something was familiar about those green flames, and her brief vision a few moments ago did not fully explain the faint memory those lights sparked within her. "Wait until we can assess what we're actually seeing, then gauge the threat and decide." The watchman nodded though he clearly disagreed. He was not a hunter, as Eli could see from his armor and bearing, but one of the city watch, a volunteer from among Brookhollow's citizens. She was glad to know that not everyone had abandoned the hunters for defying the oracles, and clapped the young man on the shoulder in reassurance, flashing him a calm smile and nodding. The nearest flame winked out, then reappeared less than a hundred yards from the gates. Those on the wall could make out the robes and cloak of a figure walking against the wind and rain, holding a crooked staff from which hung a lantern, swinging in step and radiating a flickering emerald light. Eli immediately recognized the garb of the Ghedia, the light and dark brown robes of the druidic shamans that wandered the Reach. Stepping within the light of the hooded lanterns of the watchmen, the figure pulled its hood back slightly, revealing a wrist that bore several bone and wood bracelets.

Eli was pleased to see the stoic face of Lesani. She patted the watchman on the shoulder and ordered the signal for "all is well." Two sharp notes issued from the horn, followed by a mumbling curiosity from the warriors below. Eli called down to the gatekeepers. "Open the gates!" "No need!" came Lesani's quick reply, the accent of the Shaaran tongue thick in her speech. The Ghedia approached the gate and stroked the old wood, tracing the grain with a practiced hand and whispering a familiar spell. The gate rippled at her touch, the wood responding to the wild nature of her magic. Lesani turned and planted the crooked staff in the thick mud, leaving a green beacon for the others following in the darkness. Stepping over the iron braces across the lower portion of the gates, she melded through the awakened wood.