Chapter 5

  Year of Elyssa 3993, Nohr the 50th

  Ihllaea was supposed to be wrapping and putting away cleaned bandages.

  Instead, she stood by a bed near the back rooms of the main Healer’s Ward, nose to the window. The warmth of the summer sunshine couldn’t cut the chill that filled her. Task interrupted, Ihllaea clutched her dark-green life-gem in her left hand where it rested on her necklace. Eyes searching beyond the pane, she nibbled on the end of her auburn braid as anxiety itched under her skin.

  Anxiety was nothing new to Ihllaea, but this was…outside herself. Mind scanning her surroundings, seeking the source of why she felt this way, Ihllaea sensed the ‘green friend’ out there, the mind of someone watching over her. She didn’t sense the man often—at least she felt like it was a him—but she did today. Ignoring him, she searched both outside and around her, and even her own magic. Worrying the ends of her hair, Ihllaea scanned the mountains behind the building, then the Healer’s Ward itself, with her magic.

  Nothing.

  Maybe her brother? But the sensations coming from her twin were those of happiness, joy in the fine day, the time with their grandfather. “Shonal?”

  “Yeah, Laea?” he asked distractedly.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Of course. Papa had to rush back to the Keep, though. A Rogue is being sent to us.”

  “Oh. How’s the fishing?”

  Image of a large silver fish came from him, along with her twin’s laugh of triumph. “It’s going awesome!”

  She laughed with him, teased him about catching a mere minnow, and returned to herself.

  But the moment she did, that feeling was back, but worse. Something urgent was happening—and she wasn’t there.

  Ihllaea stiffened, blinking… From the green one came an urgent sense…

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  She had to get there, she had to be there… Waiting was not an option.

  Fear spiked through her. Ihllaea whirled and ran, green-laced fear demanding speed.

  Rushing out the back exit, Ihllaea sprinted for those flaming portals at the center of Ithae Village, the Circle Pillars. Once there, she ignored the single-colored flames that led to other places in the Valley and made straight for the rainbow blaze that went to Lore Keep.

  Ihllaea wasn’t the only one to arrive in the Circle Room of the Keep. She was nearly bowled over by a Human Warrior coming from the red flames that portaled more and more men and women from the Warrior’s village. It wasn’t hard to guess that their urgency stemmed from the same source as her own. Following them, she raced through the halls and down white stone stairs into the depths of the Keep.

  Rounding a corner into the hall of Rogue Rooms, the fourth door on the left flickered pink-hued light. The sounds of magical fighting reached them even over their frantic steps and hard breathes.

  With a sinking stomach at what it meant, Ihllaea sensed Papa’s Guardian go up. Without a second thought, she slipped her power through his familiar magical signature.

  Shit! They’d need energy to fight this Rogue…

  With practiced ease, she shifted the weird magic within herself to a form they could use.

  Veering through the doorway, Ihllaea dimly registered a blast of raw, undirected power hit near her as she cast her energy to the Warriors and to Papa for a boost. “Catch!”

  Then she barged into Papa’s side, wrapping her arms fiercely around him. Guarding them both with all her strength, she buried her face in his chest, fists clenching his tunic as he pulled her even closer.

  And then it hit her.

  Death-magic.

  The smell.

  The soul-chilling cold.

  Every fear she’d ever had lurched through her mind and Ihllaea clutched Papa even tighter with a whimper.

  Then the fighting…just stopped. Ihllaea was afraid to look as her panic surged so fast and so hard she choked. Death-magic. This Rogue was a Cannibal.

  Silence echoed in her ears like a shout in the mountain valleys above.

  “Phoenix,” someone whispered. Ihllaea twitched in Papa’s arms.

  She shuddered. Oh no! The Phoenix is in here? Why would the Phoenix risk herself…?

  Ihllaea didn’t want to look. Sour fear metallic in her mouth, she turned her face to look at the man, afraid of what she’d see. The man, a Tor Elf in terrible condition, stepped to face them fully, black eyes looking at her and Papa…

  No, he was looking at her, lifting a hand in supplication. “H-Help me,” he whispered, hand shaking.

  Shock hit Ihllaea like a mage-bolt, a jolt from head-to-toe…from heart-to-soul.

  A recognition of this man…

  Warmth and tenderness sparked, potential and even hope swept through her, a wind of belonging that rocked her soul, left her shaking.

  Then the man collapsed.

  She’d never met this man, she was certain. How could she possibly recognize him?

  And then her whole being stilled in utter horror.

  No…

  Horror shifted to despair and Ihllaea wanted to cry. She knew what this meant—what this recognition was.

  No. Not with him…