in his sleep until finally the boy woke up screaming. His parents sat up with him and never slept. They endured it when the boy woke and yelled and lashed out at them with loosely clenched fists when he didn’t recognize them. By the third night, he was quieter in his dreaming, but Ashok knew the nightmare still worked on his mind. The boy was probably reliving his ordeal with the wolves. The Martucks never accused Ashok of anything, but they stayed as far away from him and the nightmare as the caravan would allow.
Here again was the price. Ashok had brought the beast into their midst to protect the caravan and especially to protect Ilvani. He, Les, and Mareyn would have certainly died without the nightmare’s intervention with the snowfang. But Vlahna had been right. The cost for such protection was to allow a monster to walk among them, and Ashok held its reins.
Of all of them, the dying Tuva seemed in the best spirits. The pain he felt walking around must have been unfathomable, but Ashok saw how it sharpened him and narrowed the focus of his world to include only the caravan and its crew. That single-minded intent probably saved them from despair and more deaths during those three days.
On the fourth day, when everyone was well enough to travel, they moved out, and Tuva stayed at the back of the caravan with Ashok, the brothers, and Ilvani. Ashok held the nightmare well back from the others, just barely keeping the rear of the caravan in sight. Tuva walked beside him.
“Your friends told me what happened to you the night you encountered the Tuigan,” Tuva said. “What was it like, riding with ghosts?”
“Like nothing I can describe,” Ashok said. “I felt … immortal, as if I was part of a tale that had been hundreds of years in the telling.”
Tuva nodded. “You did a great service for that warrior, guiding him to Tempus’s side.”
“I don’t know that it was Tempus who claimed his soul,” Ashok said. “It could have been any god.”
“It was Tempus.” Tuva smiled. Ashok noticed a faint sheen of blood on his lips. “You are His emissary. It was right to … be you.” His steps faltered.
Ashok reached out, intending to support the warrior, but Tuva brushed his hand away and kept walking.
“I should call Vlahna,” Ashok said.
Tuva shook his head. “We’ve had words already. I won’t see her again.” He focused on Ashok’s face with an effort. “Do you have a message for Him, Ashok, if my soul makes it to his side?”
“You will make it,” Ashok said. “Tempus gains a great warrior this day. Tell Him that, and may He never forget it.”
Tuva chuckled weakly. “I like you, Ashok. You have a sharp tongue, and you’re fearless. I’ll walk beside you a little longer,” he said.
He took three more steps and was dead before he fell. Ashok caught the man gently at the shoulders and lowered his body to the ground.
“Tempus,” Ashok said. His voice hardened. “Remember my words. Claim your warrior’s soul, and
He held Tuva’s body in silence for several long moments while the caravan passed on out of sight ahead of them. The warrior’s body went cold so fast-another soul gone, yet Ashok still lived.
Tuva, Olra, Vedoran, Chanoch.
If he closed his eyes, Ashok could see them all standing before him out of the shadows.
Waiting.
When he heard the sound of hoofbeats, Ashok looked up. He wasn’t surprised to see Cree riding toward him. Ilvani rode beside him on Skagi’s horse.
“You felt it?” Ashok asked Ilvani.
The witch nodded. She and Cree kneeled beside Tuva’s body. Cree said a prayer for the warrior-no less fervent than Ashok’s, but perhaps more respectful.
True to Tuva’s words, Vlahna led the caravan on while Ashok and Ilvani stayed behind to tend to Tuva’s body. Ilvani spoke a few words and moved her hands over the shadar-kai’s body. Flames spread from her hands and consumed him. It reminded Ashok too much of Olra’s funeral, and he turned away quickly to follow the caravan.
Ilvani lingered. She watched the road ahead of them with trepidation.
“What is it?” Ashok asked. “Do you see something?”
“An owl,” Ilvani said.
Ashok looked, but there were no birds in the sky. “What does it mean?”
“One spirit is gone, but the others are waiting,” Ilvani said. “The monsters are gone, but there are more frightening things this side of the mountains.”
“We’ll deal with whatever comes,” Ashok said. “You won’t have to face it alone.”
Ilvani nodded, but she kept casting glances at the sky, and Ashok saw her rubbing her arms where she’d cut herself. The wounds had healed, but it was as if she could still feel them.
As they walked together, Ashok found himself wishing he could ask her about Tuva’s soul. Would she know if Tempus claimed it? Ashok wanted Tuva to find peace with his god. He wanted to think of all the souls of his friends at rest, even if he could not claim that peace for himself. Knowing his companions were free of their burdens, Ashok felt as if he could face his own shadows.
The caravan came down out of the High Country, where Rashemen spread out before them. The foothills were rough terrain, and the weather stayed bitterly cold, but the wind died down for a spell, giving them an unbroken vista of the snow-covered country. The sun came out two days after Tuva’s death. For the first time it shone so brightly, it pained Ashok’s eyes.
He found himself staring up at the bright light until his head throbbed and orange and yellow spots completely obscured his vision. More than once, he caught himself falling behind, and finally he forced himself to concentrate on the path ahead.
The sun turned the packed snow to glistening diamonds, and this, too, threatened to dazzle his eyes, but Ashok kept moving until the caravan drew to a halt after highsun.
They’d stopped for a rest not long ago. Ashok knew there must be something wrong. He took the nightmare and rode to the front of the caravan, taking a wide route so as not to disturb the horses.
In the distance, riders approached. Ashok reached for his chain. When they got closer, he saw they resembled the man he and Mareyn had encountered in the mountains. They were dressed in similar hide or leather armor and carried long knives, bows, and arrows.
Vlahna rode up next to Tatigan’s wagon and waited while the merchant climbed down to accompany her to meet the group. Skagi rode up beside Ashok.
“Strange, they don’t look happy to see us,” he said.
“Be ready in case that’s true,” Ashok murmured.
Skagi nodded. The riders fanned out around them. They ranged in age from twenty to fifty winters, in Ashok’s estimation. The eldest, a bearded warrior with long gray braids and a tattoo of a raven on his neck, came forward to meet Tatigan.
“Well met, Ralemvic of the Raven lodge,” said Tatigan, raising a hand to greet the warrior. “Do you remember me?”
The Rashemi nodded. “You’re known to me and to the people of Thasunta, Tatigan. My people speak of you as a fair trader. On any other day, I would welcome you to these lands.”
“Oh? Why not this day? Forgive me, but as you can see, my fellows and I walked a hard road. We hoped to beg the hospitality of Thasunta,” Tatigan said. His tone was mild, but Ashok had been on the road with the merchant long enough to detect the tension underlying the words.
“I see that you’ve had a difficult time,” Ralemvic said. “But you won’t find sanctuary here. Our nights and days have been disturbed of late. The spirits walk about the land, restless and unfriendly to those they encounter. You will be much better off passing through Rashemen and heading west into Thesk to trade your wares. Many who would have bought and sold goods refuse to leave their homes. They work and prepare offerings to appease the spirits.”
Ashok and Skagi exchanged a glance. The news confirmed what they’d suspected all along. Whatever affliction had spread among the creatures of the Shadowfell was also present in Rashemen.
