his mother's reaction. 'It was… it was one of Lord Purdun's carriages. We were only after a letter, a treaty that was to be signed by High Watcher Laxaella Bronshield, the Baroness of Tanistan. But the carriage was a setup. We were attacked by more than a dozen of Purdun's elite guards.'
'But why?' His mother held her hands to her face.
'Ryder and I are… were part of the local resistance.'
His mother let go of his arms. 'The Crimson Awl? All those stories about bandits robbing Lord Purdun's coaches and mercenaries roaming around attacking his guardsmen… that was you? Liam, why?'
'Because we had to,' said Liam. 'Lord Purdun is an evil, evil man. He takes our crops, taxes our livelihoods, and imposes unfair laws.' Liam had endured arguments with his mother on the topic before. They had never seen eye to eye. 'But more importantly, he was in the process of putting together a treaty that could have ruined everything we've worked for, perhaps irrevocably.' Liam took a breath, holding up his hand to keep his place, making sure his mother didn't butt in, as she was wont to do.
'The Awl is not a large organization,' he continued. 'We are all farmers or craftsmen. We don't have the means to fight a large-scale war. We've made progress against Baron Purdun and his guardsmen. Their numbers dwindle, and they have trouble recruiting new members. The people of Ahlarkham believe in what we are fighting for, and they refuse to help Purdun keep us down. But if Tanistan sent men as well, all of the work we have done would be lost. All our sacrifices would have been in vain.'
'And what about Ryder's sacrifice? Did he know about all of this?' his mother demanded.
Liam nodded. 'Ryder was our leader. The organizer. He planned most of the raids, and I helped him.'
His mother suddenly got angry. 'What has Lord Purdun ever done to you?' She hit him across the chest. 'You and your foolish notions of right and wrong. How many times has your father told you to keep your nose out of the baron's business? Now look at what you've gone and done. You've gotten your brother killed, haven't you? And we'll never get him back.' She began to cry. 'This is all your fault, Liam. All your fault.'
'No it's not, Angeline.'
Liam turned around to see Samira sitting up on the bed. Her eyes were wet with tears, but some of the color had returned to her cheeks.
'Ryder knew what he was getting himself into.' Samira stood up and placed her hand on Liam's shoulder, standing beside him in defense. 'He knew the risks just as well as Liam did.'
'How can you say that, Samira?' said the matriarch through her sobs. 'Your husband is dead.'
'I know that, Angeline.'
'Do you not grieve?'
Samira wiped the tears from her eyes, the pain on her face turning visibly to anger. 'How dare you say that to me. Of course I do. And so does Liam.'
Liam felt a calmness wash through him. Somehow, Samira could forgive him for what he could not forgive himself. How could she do that? Samira was an angel. That must be it. No other creature on the plane could have such love in her heart. No other creature would be able to see through her grief and not condemn the brother who lived for the death of the one who did not.
Angeline stared at Samira for a long moment, seemingly piecing together the words she had just heard. Then she turned to her youngest son, now her only son.
'And what of the rest of us?' she asked, glaring at Liam. 'Samira may forgive you for Ryder's death, but your foolish little game has now put us all at risk.'
Liam shook his head. 'How?'
'Do you think those guards are blind? Do you think Purdun is stupid?' Angeline threw her hands in the air. 'As soon as he realizes even one of you got away, he'll send his men out looking.' She stepped up right into Liam's face. 'And when they come looking, they will be looking for you. And when they find you, we will all be in jeopardy.'
Liam put his hands to his head, rubbing his temples. He hadn't thought of that. 'What do you want me to do? You want me to march to Zerith Hold and turn myself in?'
Angeline opened her mouth, but Samira cut her off.
'No. Absolutely not.' She stared at Angeline until the older woman looked away, then she turned to gaze at Liam. 'We've lost enough of our family for one day, I think.'
A tense silence filled the house, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Liam watched his mother, not knowing what to say to her.
She watched him back, a stern look of disapproval on her face. Then the anger in her eyes faded, replaced by sadness, and she wrapped her arms around him. 'You're right,' she said, sobbing again. 'I'm sorry, Liam. I'm sorry.'
Chapter 3
Two hooded figures stood before the mausoleum in the ruins of the cemetery outside Dajaan. A jagged hole in the ground slowly closed, taking with it the eerie green glow, the thick wisps of fog, and the demon the two men had summoned. All that remained was an open archway and a dark passage leading deep into the stone structure.
One of the men removed his hood, revealing a young half-elf with graying hair, ashen skin, and a long scaly ridge running from the back of his head down his neck and into his heavy robe. He wore a golden torque with five large oval rubies laid into its surface-the traditional symbol of power for the baron of Impresk.
'I hope you're right about this,' said the bejeweled man.
The still-hooded man nodded. 'I assure you, Lord Tammsel, the tomb offers all that you desire and more.' He bowed and held his open palm out, as if offering the baron the tomb's entrance as a gift.
The half-elf eyed the darkened opening to the mausoleum. Then, adjusting his grip on his axe, he stepped forward and into the darkness. As he crossed the threshold, a torch came to life, filling the entrance with a thin, flickering light.
The hooded man took the torch from its sconce. 'This way, my lord,' he said, indicating a flight of stairs leading down deeper into the tomb.
The two men followed the low light down the dusty stairway. At the bottom they stepped out into a large room filled wall to wall with stone sarcophagi. The lids on all of them were ajar.
Baron Tammsel stepped up to an empty sarcophagus. Not even the bones of the occupants remained.
'It looks as though we are too late,' said the baron. 'This tomb has already been raided.'
'We are not petty thieves, my lord,' assured the hooded man. He walked farther in, heading for a raised platform in the middle of the room. 'We are here for a much greater purpose.'
The half-elf wearily followed his companion to the center of the room. There, atop a stepped dais, sat a beautiful coffin carved in the shape of a human woman.
The hooded man took all of the steps in a single bound and lifted the torch, casting a weak circle of light over the entire coffin. The baron scanned the room, seemingly very uncomfortable in the bowels of the tomb.
'The wisdom you seek lies inside this coffin,' said the hooded man.
The baron shook his head. 'Something is not right here.' He squinted, peering into the far reaches of the room. But even with his keen eyesight, the darkness ran out too far for him to see all the way across. 'I sense we are being watched.' He turned a slow circle, still searching for something. 'This is a place of great evil.' He spun back to face his companion. 'I do not know why you brought me here, but I no longer believe your stories of steel dragons and scrolls of ancient wisdom.'
Baron Tammsel backed down the steps, away from the dais, keeping his eyes on the other man. 'I am leaving now.'
The hooded figure shook his head. 'No, Lord Tammsel. You are not.'
The half-elf spun around, breaking into a run toward the stairs. The shadows on the walls began to shift, taking shape. Moving with a preternatural speed that far outpaced the swift half-elf, they blocked the exit.
Lord Tammsel skidded to a stop, the dust on the floor rising into the air. The shapes before him were not made of shadow. They had only been using the darkness to conceal their presence. They hissed at him and moved closer. In the fading light Lord Tammsel could see their tattered flesh and jutting fangs.
