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thrust his hands into the ground, digging through the sand and grabbing the form he felt beneath. With a heave of his weakened arms, he pulled a thick vine from the sand. It was wider than a man’s arm, a dull brown in color. He could only lift it about a foot out of the sand—both of its ends continued on beneath the su...
regain his feet. “You must be very religious, then.” “Religious?” the girl asked with confusion. “Well, I suppose, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Kenton frowned. A Kli that wasn’t religious? But, it was the Kershtian Theocracy that granted the title. This woman was odd—he spoke the words in her own...
that looked like a large animal’s bladder or wineskin. “There’s a second thing they don’t teach in your university, duchess,” he said, throwing the large sack-like thing over his shoulder. “The unlearned aren’t as stupid as you think.” “I’ll remember that,” she said with a half-smile. “What are you doing?” Baon slipped...
the afterlife will be very difficult for you. The Sand God was not known for his love toward sand masters. What happened here? He thought, shaking his head in confusion. Something had been done to the sand masters—something that dehydrated them at an accelerated rate. They had started to overmaster when they assumed th...
was a woman, not to mention younger than the others. However, Kenton knew that things were different on darkside—he remembered with fondness how often his mother would clash with dayside authorities. Lossand was much more relaxed than Kershtian society, but she had claimed to find even that restrictive. They crossed th...
quick to let others ignore her station. So it was that she found herself staring defiantly back at the Daysider. “Children,” Cynder interrupted, “I hate to break such a beautifully tense moment, but aren’t either of you bothered by the fact that our mercenary just drew his weapon?” Khriss looked over with surprise, not...
of charging in the sun would restore it. But, this day the sun felt different. Not the sun itself, put its position in the sky. It was in the wrong place. “We go that way,” Kenton said, pointing to the southwest. “How can you tell?” the duchess, Khrissalla, demanded. Kenton smiled. He didn’t think the girl realized how...
were better than no answers at all, for she decided to continue. “You said magic, at first. Do you believe in magic?” Kenton raised an eyebrow—this was a new one. Did he believe in magic? Well, his father had actually granted him mastrellship. That was about as magical an event as Kenton could imagine. “Sure,” he said....
thinking as the endless dunes of sand as a desert. “Personally, I think he’s lying,” Khriss added, seeking out the Daysider in his white robe. “He’s certainly hiding something,” Baon agreed. “How do you know?” “I asked him,” Baon said simply. “Asked him what?” Khriss said with a frown. “I asked him if he was hiding som...
need food, daysider,” she said, gritting her teeth against his insulting tone. Kenton frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? There’s plenty of sand.” Khriss sat, stunned by the words, her eyes focusing on the vast dunes around them. “You don’t actually eat…” She trailed off as she looked back at Kenton, noticing the ...
the interchange with intense eyes—apparently she spoke a little Kershtian, or at least enough to pick out the occasional word. “Not now, Khrissalla,” Kenton hissed back. The girl shot him an angry look. “I deserve to know what’s going on. Those instruments are mine, after all.” “I’ll write you a transcript later.” Khri...
had seen through him. “You’ve never refused to trade with my kind before,” Kenton said, deciding there was no use in hiding. “What does who I am have to do with making a deal?” “Nothing friend, that is why I make deal, eh?” The Kershtian still refused to meet his eyes. “But, times… times change. It is not a good now to...
“The High Merchant is King in Ker KeDasha.” “Yes, friend,” the merchant said, a worried look on his face. “Perhaps, no problem. Perhaps…” “I understand.” The Kershtian shrugged. “The A’Kar, he was wrong in one thing. The Ry’Kensha, you are still live. A few, at least.” “Others?” Kenton asked with concern. “You saw othe...
their vote for the High Merchant instead.” “They let a simple majority choose their King?” Khrissalla asked with downturned lips. “How primitive.” “If you say so, Khrissalla,” Kenton said with a shrug. “For dayside, the change was the best thing that could have happened. The wars stopped, and trading began. There are s...
follow. “How far is it to Lossand?” Kenton sighed at the question, but Khriss ignored the sound. She would have her answers no matter how rude he decided to be. She still couldn’t understand why her questions bothered him so much—they were only logical. She was new to Dayside; it made sense that she would have a lot of...
on Darkside. There are dozens of stories told of them—supposed powerful beings that live on dayside, controlling the elements with their magics. The stories are told to children, mostly. No one believes them… or, not seriously at least. No one but Gevin.” “They’re supposed to be able to… control the elements?” Kenton a...
hit one of the chinks in its carapace—but Kenton ignored the beast as he rolled to his feet only a short distance from his opponent. In his hand he clutched a handful of sand. The warrior flinched instinctively, spitting out a curse against the Ry’Kensha as Kenton raised his sand. The A’Kar might have found a way to co...
tonks dropped to the sand in fright, burrowing down until only the tips of their shells were visible. What…? Kenton thought in confusion, his ears ringing. At first, he thought it had been his sand—but the handful still sat in his fist, unmastered. Then he saw Baon. The black-skinned warrior stood tall, some sort of st...
the fallen men—trying his best not to look at the man’s stump of a neck. Then he turned to Baon. “We should go,” he informed, his voice more calm than he felt. “Kershtians never abandon the bodies of their fallen—they believe a man must be buried in deep sand lest his soul be lost to wander the kerla.” Baon nodded, rep...
raising itself from the sand. Khriss frowned, watching the process. “Why…?” she began, focusing on the tonks and, as far as Kenton could tell, intentionally keeping her eyes off the three bodies. “Why would they develop such odd behavior? Surely hiding beneath the sand doesn’t protect them from predators.” Kenton smile...
a new approach. Instead of asking questions, she tried to fuel Kenton sense of curiosity. It would have worked for her, after all. “The weapon,” Khriss continued, her tonk riding along beside her own. “It’s called a pistol. You were probably wondering about it.” Kenton shrugged, the same sense of melancholy in his eyes...
his head. “Besides, just because most Kershtians are willing to forgive our heathen nature doesn’t mean they all have. Those men we saw, they belonged to some new Kershtian religious group. That’s why they tried to kill me. I’m a non-believer.” Khriss frowned. There was more he wasn’t telling her, but she could sense t...
moment of desperation. It was really gone. The realization had rested heavily upon him during the last few hours of riding. He had avoided it before, forced himself not to confront it, believing that for some reason he might regain his powers. Now, however, he had finally admitted the truth. He was no longer a sand mas...
feeling, he wanted someone to explain his pains to. He knew the desire was foolish—talking about the loss would make it no less real. Besides, he had only known her for a short time—and had treated her so poorly during that time. Khriss caught his eye, and he immediately turned away, watching Baon fire a new series of ...
large anthropologist had spent the better part of the morning inspecting the zinkall, and now he sat with Kenton’s carapace blade lying across his lap. The blade was long and smooth—almost like it was constructed of some sort of black metal. “What’s bothering you, professor?” Khriss asked, taking a sip of water from he...
alike. Few could understand that his arguments were made for the pure delight of irony, rather than intent to ridicule. Acron, fortunately, was not one so easily offended. He simply laughed at Cynder’s remark, shrugging to himself. Acron was not a stupid man, but Cynder’s level of satire was usually lost on him—which w...
some reason. In pain. But, he hadn’t been hurt in the attack—what could be hurting him so much that even she could see it in his eyes? She was growing increasingly distrustful of this daysider. He seemed nice enough, but she didn’t trust his answer as to why the Kershtians had tried to kill him. Trade between Lossand a...
shuffling proved otherwise. He was worried about the possibility of another attack, and was determined not to be surprised again. He hadn’t said anything, at least not while Khriss was present, but she knew he was displeased about Kenton’s closed-mouthedness. The river beside them had broadened slightly as they moved, ...
that look. What are you curious about this time?” “The jerky… or whatever it is,” Khriss said. “You’re right—we don’t know where it comes from. It must be from a sandling of some sort, but what part? Certainly not the shell. But that means there must be soft flesh underneath, and soft flesh requires water—which I thoug...
a tub for a few hours, then let it dry in the sun. ZaiDon is a staple food, Khriss. We eat it with every meal. Of course, some forms of ZaiDon are so tasteless that we usually spice it as it’s drying. What’s wrong?” Khriss barely kept her stomach under control. “I… On darkside we aren’t accustomed to eating squished bu...
was probably the water, he told himself as he moved away from Khriss and the others. You’re just going to disappoint yourself again. But, hope moved him forward anyway. Hope led him to reach down and pull a fistful of sand from his sand pouch—worn now out of habit, rather than necessity. It was hope that shone believin...
you offended by breaking tradition.” “I—” Khriss said, shocked, her face growing red. She obviously didn’t believe him, but there was enough possibility to his words that she couldn’t be certain. She stuttered for a moment, then hammered her tonk to the side, fleeing back to her darkside companions. By the sands, how c...
If her map were to be believed, its origin could be found in the mountains to the east, the only of their kind on the continent other than the single peak at the center of the kerla. Here, in the pseudo-lake surrounding Kezare, she saw ships on the water for the first time. Most of the riverboats were small, but a coup...
the building that he had called home for the last eight years. Large and fortress-like, the building that was the Diem seemed to be part of sand surrounding it. And, in reality, such wasn’t far from the truth. The building was an enigma—it was older than the sand masters, or, at least, their formal organization. It had...
as he moved. He passed the large conference room that sat behind the entry chamber and moved on to the smaller rooms that lined the hallway on both sides. He exposed living chambers and classrooms alike, each one empty. Kenton searched frantically, calling out as he worked. Eventually, he found himself back where he ha...
a few moments later, a golden sash from the supply room in his hands. “Terr sent me to get this,” he explained sheepishly. “We’re going to give it to Drile when he leaves the Hall. It wouldn’t be right for the Lord Mastrell not to have one.” Kenton frowned. “You won’t need it,” he informed. “None of the mastrells survi...
in a low voice. “Why imitate a mastrell? You know the punishment for that? I mean, I know you want to get to Kezare…” the boy trailed of with a blush, as if he had gone too far in his accusation. “Imitating…?” Kenton asked as the dockman moved them out onto the lake and began to row for Kezare. “Dirin, the Lord Mastrel...
to the Hall of Judgement.” The Hall of Judgement was a massive pyramidal structure. Cut from dark black marble, it was the organizational center for Lossand’s trackts and judges, much in the same way that the Diem headquartered the sand masters. There was a massive crowd around its front steps, many of them wearing the...
his head, looking back at the mass of people before the Hall. Most of them weren’t as ingenuous as Dirin—would they believe him? Probably not. Kenton had too much of a history of being a rebel to have any credibility. Besides, did he really want them all to treat him like the Lord Mastrell? They would fear him, and hat...
you. I would see you, struggling on despite everything and everyone, and I would feel that, perhaps, I could keep going too.” Kenton lowered his head, raising one hand to feel the sand and clay brick beside him. “I’m not what you think I am, Dirin,” he said, memories of his harshness to Khriss fresh in his memory. “Can...
been the feeling he had experienced, the feeling of weakness from the sand. “But, it shouldn’t be possible!” he whispered. All his life, he had only been able to master one ribbon. Sand masters didn’t spontaneously gain the ability to master more—or, at least, not after they passed into maturity. All acolents started o...
sand whirling around his body. Khriss watched Kenton walk away, disappearing around a corner without giving the darksiders a second look. She stared distractedly for a moment, allowing the boatman to herd her onto his tiny vessel, before snorting and seating herself. “I knew he would abandon us,” she informed to no one...
feeling, like a bag that was packed so full it was about to burst. The buildings almost seemed to be pushing one another into the lake, some running right up to the water’s edge. Over all it looked less grand than it did crowded, dirty, and loud. Acron, apparently, disagreed with her. “It’s amazing,” the hefty anthropo...
or Kershtian. The dark hair seemed to imply Kershtian, but her skin didn’t have the olive cast to it. Of course, it was smudged with enough dirt that it was hard to tell. The boatman smiled, pointing at the two men, then held up two fingers. “Za lak,” he said. “Two coins,” Cynder translated. “How surprising—I actually ...
noise of the crowd would obviously render her voice ineffectual. Fortunately, Acron began to push his bulk their direction a moment later. When he met up with them, he wore one of the Kershtian forehead medallions around his head. “You should never have given him any money, My Lady,” Cynder said with a soft groan. “Mov...
was right, maybe it was an ambush. Then she realized something—or, rather, she heard something. A few words, echoing through the stone tunnel. Words in Dynastic. “You don’t suppose…?” she asked, listening closely. She could have sworn to the Divine that the voices were all speaking in Dynastic. “Come on,” she said, rem...
had its own distinct way of speaking Dynastic. She didn’t see any Elisians, however. There were quite a few black-skinned Iiarians—the largest and most powerful nation under Dynastic control—and an inordinate number of the light-skinned people of the Tiaoc states, a group of Dynastic protectorates that lay huddled alon...
if the ceiling were constructed of wood. The place seemed to be a combination of caverns both natural and man-made. Most of the walls were obscured, however. Buildings had been built up against them—the line of houses and shops didn’t even have alleys between them. They kind of reminded Khriss of tenements back in the ...
I can’t protect you if you leave me behind. The room inside was nothing like the unfurnished hallway. The walls were hung with paintings—several of which Khriss recognized as being from famous darkside artists—and the floor was covered with a massive rug. At the back of the room there was actually a fireplace with a fi...
air at a tolerable temperature. “And you rule here?” she asked, then immediately cursed her lack of tact. She had never excelled at court politics, though she was good enough to recognize her comparative weakness. Loaten laughed at the comment. “No, dear Duchess, far from it. This place was long established by the time...
only in an informal setting, like in a comfortable room, sitting before a fireplace.” Loaten smiled. “And I thought you were supposed to be bad at this, dear Duchess.” “Who told you that?” Khriss asked with indignation. “My dear,” Loaten reminded, “I was Scythe’s chief minister of diplomacy—you’d be surprised the thing...
rubbed one of his chins in thought. “What could cause a politically inactive, socially reclusive scholar of a noblewoman to cross the border oceans with minimal protection and almost no knowledge of dayside? It’s hard enough for those of us who know about the smuggling ships.” Khriss felt herself begin to blush. “Surel...
They looked more… confused than anything else. “That man is a traitor,” Baon hissed. “I know,” Khriss said. She had never seen Baon so emotional before. “Let’s go,” the mercenary finally decided. “Before I decide to kill him.” “That sounds like a good idea,” Cynder agreed. Khriss passed through the doorway, and Loaten’...
the Hall—all his life, he had needed belligerence and stubbornness to gain even the slightest concession. Yet, two simple statements had won this conversation. Perhaps there was something to be said for authority after all. Still a little unsure at his victory, Kenton reached forward and pushed open the sub-door in the...
otherwise packed wall of people. Taking a deep breath, Kenton approached the proceedings judge on the side of the corridor. Kenton stood in the open-topped tunnel that sloped up to the testimony platform. He could make out a familiar form standing on the platform—the man’s ugliness could be recognized even from a great...
could have been a respected face, it had strong features and almost a venerable quality. The face, however, betrayed the rosy cheeks and red nose of drunkenness. Delious, the Lord Admiral, the embarrassment of Lossand. “I apologize for my tardiness, Lords and Lady Taishin,” Kenton announced, smiling slightly at Delious...
was accented by a short, square beard. More than a warrior, Reegent was a politician and a statesman, the unofficial leader of Lossand’s wealthy landowners, the kelzin. He was not a man who dealt well with what he considered ‘nonsense.’ “Lord Reegent, Lady Judge, other members of the Council,” Kenton said before Reegen...
have been able to hear Lord Praxton give me the mastrellship. Unfortunately, Elorin was left powerless from overmastery, and has since disappeared.” “Not much of a witness,” Vey said with a snort. “Agreed,” Heelis said. “A man who can give no testimony is not a witness, young Kenton.” “Yes, but is not the possibility o...
denounce Drile, not try and save an entire Profession. “Vital?” Reegent asked. “Boy, you sand masters are the most redundant, overpaid group on the sands. What do you do? You sit in your castle and look down at the rest of Lossand, sucking away its resources and giving nothing in return.” “We offer protection from the ...
large chunks of the Law in his attempts to foil his father, but most of what he had studied dealt directly with the Diem. He hadn’t the background for an argument with more general application. “I won’t say that your claims are not true,” Kenton continued. “I fact, I will back many of them. As Lord Reegent pointed out,...
did so because Vey had voted against Kenton. “And I vote to dissolve as well,” Heelis said. “I am afraid, Kenton, that even if we made you Lord Mastrell, your reign would be brief. This Council has decided that henceforth there will be only seven Professions in Lossand. The Diem is to be dissolved. We will decide what ...
what grounds?” Heelis snapped. “On the grounds that I wasn’t informed that it would occur,” Kenton informed firmly. Passages of Law seemed to flood into his mind, forming connections and conclusions almost without effort. For the first time in his life, he had a purpose to go with his arguments. “What is that supposed ...
notice, Kenton. In two weeks this Council will meet again, and there we will decide whether or not to dissolve the Diem. I suspect the votes will not magically change during the wait.” “You give me notice,” Kenton said in response. “Does that mean this council accepts and ratifies me as Lord Mastrell?” Heelis paused. “...
they irrationally feared the trackts would expose. They should have known better. Ais had much larger prey to deal with. Secrets, Ais thought to himself. We all have secrets. Even trackts. He pushed such thoughts from his mind, continuing forward, moving with the distinctive formal posture and emotionless face that had...
had served in Ais’s personal band of trackts for over three years now, and had proven himself a competent and effective subordinate. The other man, Tain, was a little newer to the band—two years. He was a pleasant man, and one Ais had been grooming for leadership for some time. He would make a fine Senior Trackt. “What...
had taken months to find Lokmlen, then weeks to plan a proper raid. But, the couldn’t have a more perfect opportunity than this day. Nilto was giving testimony at the Hall—which meant his organization was temporarily left without leadership. If Ais struck quickly, then Lokmlen would be in his custody before Nilto even ...
decided, sending the coin into the air with a particularly strong flip. As soon as the coin left his fingers, the room plunged into blackness. Cries of startlement sounded through the room—startlement that quickly turned to panic. Merris felt it himself—terror from the lightless void surrounding him. His yell of fright...
his own emotions… “Looks like we’re done here, sir,” Jedan said, saluting. “Good,” Ais said curtly, clasping his hands behind his back. Jedan nodded, turning to the few remaining members of his squad in preparation to go. Ais frowned, watching his Second cross the room. Something was wrong. Ais followed Jedan, stepping...
archers, and one against himself. The rage barely surfaced, however. He had learned to control it well, especially in battle. A moment later, the fight was over. His insane assault had forced to archers to stop firing at his trackts, and seconds afterwards Ais’s well-trained men had regrouped and followed him through t...
reaching behind to pull out a strange darkside cloth bag he hung by a strap from his shoulder. Then he stepped up onto the dock, pulling out a couple of lak and handing them to Iador. “Thanks for the conversation,” the man said absently, wandering away from the docks. Ais dashed through the crowd, pushing his way throu...
really putting himself in to position to fire. Not at Ais’s chest, which would have been too obvious, but at his leg. Lokmlen fired first, and Ais felt a searing pain in his leg. His own shot, thrown off Lokmlen’s attack, went wild, and his final arrow snapped uselessly against the alley wall. Ais stumbled back against...
up at the sound, confused. Ais did as well, his vision clearing slightly as the rage backed away. A figure stood in the alley, a shorter man of husky build with dark curly hair and an oblong bag slung over his shoulder. “Now, I realize it’s probably none of my business,” the newcomer said, leaning against the side of t...
pack and waving farewell to Ais as he strolled back toward the street. “Always go for the toes.” Ais handed Lokmlen off to a couple of trackts guarding the front of the thieves hideout. He ignored their suggestions that he let a healer see to his wounds—none of them were very bad, and had stopped bleeding now that he h...
members of Jedan’s band. “Great Sand Lord!” one of them whispered, barely audible as Ais left the room, “doesn’t he have any feelings at all?” Ais bowed his head as soon as he was out of view, sighing to himself an shuddering slightly. Then he looked up, forcing his face to be flat, to be strong. Control. It is all abo...
upon yourself, young Kenton?” Kenton smiled. “Now you sound like my father.” “He did enjoy laying responsibility, didn’t he?” Heelis said, a fond look on her face. “I will miss Praxton.” “I thought you didn’t like the sand masters,” Kenton said. “Nonsense, child,” Heelis returned. “I had great respect for the Diem, and...
said you don’t want to see the Diem destroyed!” “I don’t,” Heelis agreed. “But, if destruction is in the best interest of Lossand, then that is what I must support.” “The Diem’s arrogance is broken,” Kenton said. “There is nothing to fear from us now.” “Arrogance will return. Wherever there is power, there is pride. Be...
sand masters to my side,” Kenton informed. “Not just sand masters, child,” Heelis warned. “I must lay one more task upon you. The Professions represent the people of Lossand. We govern by their sufferance. If the people are morally opposed to sand mastery, then I would not be able to continue to support you. First you ...
then, nodding to the next Diemfen in line. “So tell me, why do you think I should let you have a place in the mastrells quarters?” “Drile,” Kenton ordered, “stop this foolishness.” Drile didn’t turn. “Why should I?” he asked nonchalantly. “Because it’s ridiculous,” Kenton said. “If we’re going to give away rooms, we’ll...
was the minimum amount required to lift a sand master more than a few feet in the air. Many sand masters who could control three, or even four, ribbons still couldn’t lift themselves to such a height. What if he still wasn’t powerful enough? Taking a deep breath, he gathered his ribbons beneath him, one underneath his ...
friends. This was the man who had nearly destroyed the Diem. And now he was trying to blame Kenton. He was a coward. Unfortunately, Kenton had no real proof that the man was a traitor—he couldn’t get him thrown out of the Diem with simple accusations. “Get out of my father’s rooms,” Kenton said quietly, surprised at th...
that the former-mastrell would remain cowed for long. Even as an acolent, Drile had been trouble. He had lorded over Kenton’s group of students like a Kershtian monarch, often demanding that others do the research for his classes for him, other times sneaking into town to perform secret deeds with his abilities in exch...
as the ribbons grabbed him, lifting him into the air and placing him on the balcony. Eric dusted himself off—he was dressed in darksider clothing, a vest over a bright red shirt and a pair of loose tan leggings. “I’d forgotten how useful that was,” he mumbled, strolling into the room. Kenton turned, shaking his head in...
to eat,” Eric explained. “I’m starving—I saved some trackt’s life today, and that’s hungry work. Aren’t you mastrells supposed to have hoards of food and money and things heaped around your chambers?” “I don’t know,” Kenton replied, “I’m kind of new to this.” “Aha!” Eric suddenly said, pulling a thin strip of dried Zai...
foot in thought. The others stood around, watching her expectantly. What now? she thought, a little uncomfortable underneath their scrutiny. She caught Baon’s eye, trying to delve some clue as to what he thought she should do, but his glassy black eyes were unresponsive. “I guess we go to the top,” Khriss decided. “If ...
don’t you two secure us lodgings here in darksider town? I assume you would rather stay here than out in the sun?” “Well…” Acron said, his sense of comfort apparently debating with his desire to be among the dayside people. Comfort won. “Yes, that does sound like a good idea.” “Cynder, may I borrow one of your watches?...
Baon explained. “I doubt that is a lesson the court ever taught.” Khriss shook her head—Baon was right. She had always been a very important person. Ever since her mother had died when Khriss was very young, Khriss had been the sole heir to the family line. Her father, a lesser nobleman, had been Duke only by marriage,...
N’Teese explained. “They own lots of land, and keep it in the family. Most of them are in the Guild or the Tower.” “Guild? Tower?” N’Teese sighed. “The Guild is merchants, the Tower soldiers. Kelzin in the Tower pass their rank from father to son, so most of them don’t leave. Normal men can’t pass ranks—not unless they...
shoving the glasses over her eyes. “I don’t have to make sense!” “All right…” Baon said, shaking his head. He followed behind as Khriss began walking away from the Hall down a moderately busy street. “Are we wandering somewhere specific, or did you simply pick a random direction?” Khriss continued to march, ignoring th...
be, assuming the house followed standard format, the study. Inside she found Cynder sitting contentedly in a houserobe, chewing on the end of a pipe and sitting in front of a glass-fronted fireplace. “Ah, duchess,” he said, rising as she entered. Khriss waved him to sit back down as she took a seat for herself. The roo...
agreed to see me!” “Really?” Cynder asked, genuinely surprised. “I guess we are far from where our titles mean anything, aren’t we?” Khriss just shook her head, sipping her tea. “Perhaps one of the others will let me in. I only tried three of the eight.” Suddenly, they heard the sound of the front door opening. A momen...
water, My Lady,” Idan explained in his deep voice. “They are afraid of swimming, and find the idea of immersing oneself in water extremely discomforting.” “The probably assume they’ll melt,” Cynder mumbled. “How odd,” Khriss said. “I guess it makes sense. They don’t take baths at all, then?” “It is customary to wipe on...
of work and efficiency. On his desk sat two piles of black paper. One contained the files on all who had applied for his band, the other the paperwork for each of the men he had captured in the safehouse. The judges wanted to know which of them Ais intended to charge, and with what crimes. Ais shook his head, rounding ...
one person behind his lack of self-mastery. He had done it again. He had lost control, turning from careful trackt into witless fool. Fortunately, none of his men had been there to see his shame, the secret their leader—assumed greatest of trackts—hid. Quietly, Ais closed his eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks to the...
was a success,” Lady Heelis offered. “I lost six men,” Ais responded. “And five more have injures that will keep them from duty for months.” “Yes,” Heelis admitted. “But you captured a known murderer—you realize that Lokmlen has admitted to over a dozen assassinations besides the three trackts he killed.” Ais nodded. “...
case.” Ais froze. Off of the case…? He had worked for the last three years trying to implicate Nilto. “I see that you object,” Heelis noted. “I would never—” “Yes, I know,” Heelis interrupted. “You would never go against orders. I realize how much this case means to you Ais, but I have something more important for you ...
pushed its occupants toward sleeping in shifts. Ais’s thoughts were fretful as he walked. He had just lost his second, and now his band would have to continue their hunt for Sharezan without their leader—for a few weeks at least. It wasn’t a large setback, but Ais resented it nonetheless. Once again, justice was hamper...
He leaned to kiss his wife as he passed, and placed Melly onto her soft, sand-filled mattress. “Little KanLisht,” he whispered, using Melly’s Kershtian name. “I am home now, so stop worrying. Go to sleep. You must be exhausted.” “I’m okay, daddy,” the girl protested, but a stern look from her father convinced her to pu...
anger rise within him. There was another reason he needed to catch Sharezan—a reason more powerful even than the Law. “Melly isn’t the only one who is scared, Ais,” his wife whispered in a quiet voice. Ais sat up, wrapping his arms around her. “He is only trying to scare me,” Ais explained. “The underground maintains a...
followed by retreating footsteps. Eventually the thumping began again, further away this time. Khriss sighed, rolling onto her back and trying to avoid getting up. In her opinion, mornings were best treated by sleeping through them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get herself to fall back asleep, and so grouchily forced he...
that the Dynasty squatted drooling on Elis’s borders. His brother Barden might be Elis’s heir, but Gevin was its heart. The people loved him, and relied on his leadership. It would have taken a monumentous event to keep him from returning to them in a time of such need. Kenton had never seen his father’s rooms. Eightee...

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