Stormwinter Book 1 First 3 Chapters

8/8/2019 Stormwinter Book 1 First 3 Chapters

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1. Prologue

A young girl listened, her skin was tinted as the sun, filtered through the ash of

an all consuming blaze. A flame that set the world on fire, sparked to life by a

fallen star. The bracelet she wore was blue as the sky-above-the-sky. Where

fallen heroes gathered in halls of memory and Apsaras watched over the fates of men. Her teeth gleamed as white as glistening pearls hidden in deepest tombs,

submerged in cities forgotten in the abyss of ocean trenches, crushed by the

weight of ancient wars. Nayana heard the words, but was distracted. "Why do I

have to hear this story?"

A voice spoke from the shadows. "Because it is your story. And you should

understand." The voice began, droning on. "The first king was born from

Thunder. Thunder gave life to men and for a time, men ruled in peace. The Lord

of Thunder tasted the nectar of amrita and lived forever. He reigned for centuries,

before tiring of his responsibilities. Determined to control his own destiny, he lefthis kingdom in search of adventure.

"I'd like to have adventures." Nayana yawned.

"The second king was different. His body aged just like any other man. Our

Father they called him. His cruel temper made his subjects fear him greatly. But

contrary to his fevered nature, Our Father could be most kind hearted on holidays,

when he would send gifts to children."

"He wanted people to love him, but he didn't know how."

"The third king inherited his place. He was known as Elder of the Western

Slopes. He hated living in fortresses and castles, and took his chancellors withhim on journeys across the world. He even wooed Daughter Shadow herself,

queen of snows. But she had been in love once before, and she laughed at the idea

that a man could fall in love with the weather."

"Have I met Daughter Shadow?"

"Once. She kissed you when you were born."

"Oh." Nayana felt a shiver. "I remember how cold her lips were."

The voice continued. "The Elder's successor was known as the Prince of

Vanity. He rose to power in rapid time. He had a magnificent kingdom butquickly grew proud. He would often stare into mirrors, as he loved his own

reflection more than any living thing. He commissioned statues of himself, and

portraits, and galleries. All while ignoring warnings of an impending war. The

prince was tricked by the flattery of Mistress Wither and Mistress Scar, spies for

the enemy. They saw his vanity and they knew their opportunity had finally come.



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That is when the Asuras, who had been hiding in shadows since the days of

old, rose up against men. The prince was defeated in battle, his kingdom overrun.

It was only due to Daughter Shadow's fierce and unyielding terror that the Asuras

retreated. Their forces were littered on the mountain top, frozen in the snow. The

enemy was turned back. But the world had changed. From that time forward, alllife was corrupted by hate. And there would never be peace again."

Nayana drifted off. "Asuras? I don't want to hear a story about demons. It'll

give me nightmares."

"Very well." The voice replied. "We will finish the story another day."

Nayana's eyes melted shut. The shadowed figure stood. "But it is a story that must

be told. And you must never forget your home."

White feathers glistened. Each soft and fuzzy one of them waved and fluttered

on the breeze. A boy waited, Thomas Page. Wings exploded from his shoulders.He stood proud, starkly silhouetted against the sun. He was perhaps the only

living boy who could fly. Thomas stared out over the expanses of clouds and

space he was about to discover. The world was stretched out before him. The

fabric of possibility had been woven and presented for his choosing. Which

thread would he pull first?

So Thomas stepped off the roof of the Riverside School, fully expecting great

things. And great things did happen, for a microsecond or two. He may have even

hovered, slightly, before tumbling rather gravitational-wise towards the ground,

flailing into a bush which broke his awkward fall, but not before snapping a fewbranches. He was scratched, he was bruised. And it was clear that he was in fact

not the only living boy who could fly. Thomas should've been miserable. But his

spirits were quickly lifted at the sight of a red glint. "Mmm... Raspberries."

"Detention!" Mrs. Spalding's fingers quivered.

"I'm sorry. Did I miss something?" Thomas Page, a boy of unusual perceptive

abilities guided in the opposite direction of being clear stood before his teacher,

grinning. He had a bandage on his chin and a cut on his forehead.

"I said. Detention!" Mrs. Spalding hissed. "You heard me the first time."

"But when you said it, you must've agreed that what I attempted wasn't reckless

behavior. It was an experiment. And as such, given the circumstances it should be

respected. Maybe even contributing to a passing grade in your class? After all, it

was an act of science."

"Science? Well- What does that have to do with anything?"



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"I had to find out. I had to know. Can man fly? Hence, ergo, scientificus,

experitamus. Et cetera. Et cetera. And so on." Thomas droned. His father would

often write these kinds of words on paper. He was a professor and gave his son

important sounding lectures, through which Thomas would typically drift off. But

he had the feel of high caliber phrases down, he felt their taste on his tongue."Oooh. Now you're making up words." Spalding couldn't contain herself. She

grabbed the spindly sticks of hangar wire coated with feathers glued together.

"You- you tried to jump off my roof."

"Correction, did jump off. And I admit, my eagle's wings had a certain flaw in

their design. But I'll do better next time. I have a plan."

"Next time?" Spalding steamed. "Thomas Archibald Page. Do you not

understand that there will never be a next time?"

"You know, Mrs. Spalding. I think we could be very good friends if we just

made the effort." Thomas winked. "So how about we call off this whole detentionthing?"

"It's just been doubled. You should be ashamed of yourself. Acting like that.

You could've been hurt."

"Ashamed? Yes. Hurt no. I don't believe in getting hurt." Thomas tilted his

head, feeling a surge of excitement. "Would you like a ticket? I'm selling them for

the encore. Raising funds for a good cause-- Ow!"

She had him by the ear.

So Thomas Page, supposed adventurer, found himself at the tail end of a verylong line of boys that Mrs. Spalding had summoned over the years for that

wretched duty, scrubbing chalkboards. He muttered to himself, the rag scratching

over the rough surface. "One of these days I'll be somebody. She'll see."

At a young age, Masha Petrova spent afternoons watching honey colored

dragonflies glide above the bushes, where they soared like heroes-of-the-South-

Pacific dive bombers, chasing mosquitoes under summer skies. Thomas Page, on

the other hand, loved squishing them.

Masha turned away from the window. She tugged on her boots. Left foot,followed by the right foot. Always in the same order each morning. Masha's left

foot throbbed, as she had stumbled over a rather obnoxious stone left on the lawn

the day before after one of her father's many excavation missions. He was taking

soil samples, or so he claimed. Trying to perfect his already prize worthy garden



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with the perfect balance of water and minerals.

She complained about the loose rocks scattered around but he exclaimed "It is

not the stones dyevochka. It is the weeds that are the problem." Which sparked an

idea as he looked her over. An idea that she quickly regretted bringing to his

attention. A day later, she could still feel the crusty, dried mud under her fingersand the sting of sunburn on the bridge of her nose. She scratched at the cut from

the weeds she had pulled at her father's request. "No excuses Masha. Everyone

must work."

Thomas, Masha's best friend had shown up at one point during the afternoon.

She was glad to see him. "Hey Thomas."

"Hi." Thomas stared, seeing the effort in progress. He saw the sweat. "So...

You're working?"

"Yeah," she wiped her brow, "wanna help?"

Thomas backed up slowly. One step. "Uh..." Two steps. "Wha-?" Three steps.

He bolted. "Emergency!"

Uncle Vanya passed by, ducking through shadows to escape the glares of the

sun. He smiled as she leaned and plucked in the garden

"Why don't you help? You're strong enough." Masha asked, quickly tiring of

the task at hand.

"Well-" Vanya was quick to retort. "Because my fingers are very sensitive.

They have to be taken care of, like jewels." But of course he was lying. He just

didn't want to pull any weeds.Vanya was a man of strength. Strength defined as a typhoon. Strength defined

as a shield from anything that would harm those he loved. He had been there at

the wedding, he had always lived close. Close enough to spend many weekends

visiting his favorite niece. But lately there had been broken glances exchanged.

Halted discussions at the dinner table. Masha's father would often shoot his

brother sour looks, speaking past each other usually. Going without making eye

contact for days. When Masha asked her mother about it, she rinsed the plate and

scrubbed it clean before answering. Her mother drained the sponge. "Some men

think what your uncle does is very important. Some men will hire him to..." She

hesitated.

"What?" Masha was afraid to ask her uncle, didn't have the nerve. But

pestering her mother? That was a different story. "What does he do, exactly?"

"He is very good at opening things that are meant to be kept shut. With his

fingers? Well you've heard of Tchaikovsky haven't you? Chopin? They say he's a



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maestro." She went back to washing the dishes. "Your father is angry that his

brother refuses to apply his skills to a responsible line of work." That struck the

young girl. In Masha's mind, her uncle was a spectacular, unique individual who

deserved to be praised, and she couldn't agree with her father's condemnation.

After all, whatever his flaws Uncle Vanya was family.One afternoon, as Vanya was on the steps, carving from a block of wood,

Masha confronted him with the facts. "I know what you are."

Vanya couldn't help himself. He let a thin smile leak on the right side of his

face. But he wouldn't turn his eyes to reveal it. Instead, he continued carving.

"Oh? And what am I? You seem to know everything, so tell me already."

"You are a thief."

Fingers froze. A thin strip of wood curled up off the carving, where a fierce

warrior giving a battle cry was emerging. "Are you sure?"

Masha was confused and her forehead was scrawled with the evidence of it.

"Yes. You steal things don't you?"

The knife slid upward, the wood continued to curl. "Not exactly, I decipher

locks. I open vaults. It's up to the others to do the actual taking." He looked her

over. "You've watched me practice, haven't you? I've seen you spying."

"Yes."

"And you want to learn?

Masha pumped her head in agreement.

"Then I will teach you." He paused. "But don't ever tell your father."

For weeks, Masha watched as her uncle practiced on small strips of metal,

contorted into forms that merged together. Each riddle had a name: 'The Horse

and the Rider,' 'The Dead Lock'. He would pull each one apart, lock it again, and

toss it to her.

"Here." He would say. "See if you can solve this one."

"This is how you learn? To do what you do?"

"It's one way. Solving puzzles is a good start. Now try it. Soon we'll move onto locks, then mechanisms. And in a few months or so I may even have you up to

glass trap devices. Very difficult. One wrong move and the glass shatters, making

the container impossible to open, and whatever rare treasure is to be found inside?

Lost." He tussled her hair. "You'll get there, soon enough."



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Masha would spend hours trying to figure out how to unlock the devices.

Those metal question marks. Some would involve gears. Some would involve

pins. One in particular had her stumped. Vanya had given her a small box the

week before and told her it was a special gift. A challenge. He called it 'The

Rising Sun.' She examined it carefully. There were two tiny knobs in a face platewith a slot that both restricted their movement, as well as allowed the knobs to

slide in a circle around the plate. This circle had lines branching from it, like tails

of the sun. Near the bottom of the face plate, two slides entered the box. One was

offset vertically from the other. These pieces of metal could be pushed or pulled.

She had struggled with it for days of frustration. But finally she approached her

uncle. "It's impossible, right?

"No." He sat on the bed beside her. "You are trying to force the lock. And if

you go to war, it will always fight back against you." He showed her what she

was doing wrong. "When you try to do it this way, it gets stuck." As hedemonstrated her approach, the slides wouldn't slide. The knobs refused to budge.

The mechanism seemed impenetrable.

"So what do I do?"

Vanya took the box. "Think of each mechanism as a symphony." He turned it

in his hand. Feeling its weight, testing it. "Each lock has a unique series of

instruments that play together. Gears, locks, tumblers. But you can't see them. So

you have to listen, with your fingers and with your ears. You must make sure that

all the parts are in harmony with each other." His fingers deftly worked the knobs

and sliders around, moving them in a definite pattern that allowed each part toglide freely. "Only when you hear the melody will you ever be able to make

progress." He shoved the last slider in. And the face of the box snapped open. His

face lit up. "As they say in the old country, horosho!"

Masha was out of her room, bounding down the stairs, directly towards the

front steps where Thomas waited. That was, until a slow "Hssss..." echoed from

the chamber beyond a wooden door, paint peeling on the frame. Masha froze, as

solid as a statue in an art museum, wishing it could move, trapped. Her mind

raced. Was the old woman awake? Had she broken the rules? Masha knew thather babushka hated being awoken early. She was strong, like her two sons. But

Vanya often joked that the only thing Baba Zoya was afraid of was the morning.

So Masha crept slowly forward, and sneaked a look through the crack.

What she witnessed was a relief. Her grandmother lay snoozing with nostrils



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open wide like two damp caves. Shadows fell over her aged body, as if the

patterns of light were comforting this fallen birch tree with smoke white leaves.

Outside Thomas parried and lunged, flinging a wooden sword. Masha stood

firm, determined to show her resolve. She hoped to make a statement that would

convince her neighbor to be both sane and reasonable. Neither of which was inhis immediate grasp. "Thomas. What on earth are you doing?"

Thomas turned. He flung out the sword and yelled, quite abruptly. "Yaaah!"

"Yaaah?" Masha stared.

"It's a sword!" Thomas beamed. "Cool, huh?"

"If you say so. But where did you get it?"

"Oh- well that's a long story." He slung it over his shoulder. "I call it

Astronauth! Because I'm pretty sure it fell from space."

"Right." After all these years of being friends, Masha was used to Page'sfrenzied exertions. She would often take a deep breath, and let his shenanigans

roll off her like water spills off a duck's back. "Well hurry up sword-boy or we'll

be late for school."

Thomas felt trapped behind his desk. He was a mouse in a cage. He chewed on

his pencil. He juggled his knees up and down. Masha tried to ignore him but he

would always pass her those awkward faces. It was a trap and she knew it. He'd

count the minutes between distracting her. One. Two. Three, and she was smiling

unexpectedly.

"Miss Petrova. Do you find me amusing?" Mrs. Spalding sharply frowned, thelines of her face turning down like two seagulls diving. "Do you think that this

class is a theater of comedy," her arms waved. "That learning is a joke?"

"What- no." Masha stammered. Thomas slipped on his favorite disguise. He

wore a disapproving frown, quite inappropriate considering he was entirely

responsible for Masha's grin.

"We'll have no more of that young woman. There will be no smiling in this

class. Or grinning or smirking of any kind. Now, as I was saying... In eighteen

seventy three..." Spalding turned back to the board.

As Masha turned the corner towards her home, she felt a flicker on her eye.Lights danced on her pupils, kobold spirits. These flickers were moving, chasing

each other in a rapid merry-go-round. Red spirits and blue spirits ran in

succession. What she saw beyond the light show struck her. It was if the earth had

tilted suddenly. And even though Masha knew she was standing on solid ground,



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she could barely keep her knees from buckling.

There were men in uniform at the door. One of them had a white shirt, and a

string around his neck. Down from the string was a gleaming, bronze badge.

"Police?" Masha whispered. "What are they doing here?"

"Oh, you probably had a break in or something." Thomas chimed. "Listen, I'vegot to go. My dad's got a lecture he wants to read me. Something about sciency

stuff I guess." And he was off.

"Bye." Masha worked her away across the curb, cracks in the sidewalk almost

tripped her. And then she saw him. Vanya stood, hands twisted behind his back.

Stark metal was on his wrists. It was as if the strength in his body had been

drained. Men in blue uniforms and matching caps surrounded him.

"Uncle- What's happening? What's going on?" She tried to push past them.

He looked over, his eyes bearing the weight of a ruined man. "I am sorry. I

should've been more careful. I should've stopped, for you."

"Let's go." The blue shirt man wasn't asking. "Move it." They tugged Vanya

towards the waiting vehicle, its turret lights illuminated.

Masha chased Vanya as he was pulled to the car. "This has to be a mistake.

You have the wrong man." The blue men shoved him inside. She was at the

window. "Uncle..."

"Hey- Don't worry my beautiful niece." Vanya's face was gray. "I will see you

again, I promise." The cruiser started to move away." And there is nothing.

Nothing that can stop me.""Wait." She whispered. But he was gone. Masha stared as the police cruiser

was Charon's boat, pulling a fallen man into eternal night.

"Come now." Behind her, Zoya stood at the doorway. Her hair was unfurled

and unkempt.

"But- Baba Zoya. That's your son." Masha pleaded. "We have to do something."

Zoya shook her head, gray hair wisping in the wind. "Your uncle is a criminal

Masha. He has been caught and he will be locked away. There is nothing we can

do to help him now."

"We can't just let him go."

Zoya extended her thin hand, bones lingering at the surface of her skin,

threatening to break through. "Come child, let this be. There is a storm

approaching." A clap of thunder rattled above.

The sky burst open. Thunder echoed. Lightning pierced the heavens. Three



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sharp knocks rattled the door. "Get it Masha." Her mother's voice from the

kitchen. Masha pulled at the knob and it was Thomas, soaked.

"Come on out. It's fun." Thomas beamed. The thunder grumbled behind him.

"There's nothing like being out in the middle of a storm. Haven't you ever tried it

before?""Are you mental?" Masha asked, and then she realized. "Wait- I already know

the answer to that. So are you coming inside or aren't you?"

Thomas grinned. "Oh, well. Alright. Now that you're asking." And Thomas

was in the house, splattering water all over the place.

"What- what are you doing boy?" Zoya stared sharp from her favorite chair,

frowning in her usual disapproving way.

"Well- I'm wet and it's got to go somewhere. That's not a problem though is it?"

Her mouth pinched in dismay. "Very much so. Now- come with me." Zoyatook Page's hand. Their feet clumped against the wood floor as they made their

way up to Zoya's room.

"Sorry about your uncle." Thomas whispered.

Masha brushed it aside. "I don't want to talk about it."

Baba Zoya sat square on the quilted bed sheet, and let out a sigh. "Look at you

malchik. Dripping all over the place." She grabbed a towel and tossed it to

Thomas. "Catch."

Thomas grabbed it, he started daubing his face and hands. Outside, strong

winds shook the house. The windows rattled. "Ugh." Zoya stood. She stared hardat the night sky and growled. "This storm is so rude. It is well past my bedtime

and it will not be considerate of my age. We must do something about this."

"Do?" Thomas frowned. "What, like a weather machine?"

Zoya simply replied. "If we try? This storm can be frightened away." It seemed

implausible, but Zoya was sincere.

"But- You're talking like it's a thing. Like it's an animal or something." Masha

said.

"Well of course it is." Zoya shook her head in disgust. "The storm is a spirit.

Some storms are evil, some are good. What do they teach you in that school of

yours? Nothing useful I imagine."

"C'mon. Really?" Thomas said. "You're making this up, aren't you?"

"I will show you something." Zoya took a key dangling from around her wrist



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and unlocked a small metal box that had been left untouched on the lower shelf

for years. The dust marked Zoya's hand as she opened it ever so carefully. She

took out a wind chime, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Its metal

spokes were wrapped in cloth, to prevent them from making contact.

"What is it?" Masha blinked."This is no ordinary trinket. Once, when I was living far away, and before your

parents were born, there was a great earthquake. I was young then. I had hopes.

This earthquake came to my home. It arrived without warning. It threatened to

destroy everything. And you know what I did?"

Masha was intrigued. "What?"

"I trapped it in here." Zoya was quite proud of her feat. A moment of silence.

"Did not." Zoya rapped Page. "Ow!"

"Stupid boy." She turned. "Do you want to see?" Zoya's eyes shimmered with ahint of expectation. She lifted the small chime carefully, slowly. She removed the

dampener, held it in the air. "Ready?"

Masha nodded. Thomas rubbed his aching head.

"Hold on to something." Zoya let her fingers shiver. Two metal spokes made

contact. There was a chime. One singular note erupted, sending shockwaves

rippling through the house, through the entire city. Lamps swayed from the

ceiling. Books rattled on their shelves. The ground trembled beneath their feet.

And as Zoya grabbed the chime again, the tumbling quickly subsided.

Thomas gasped. "Wha- what just happened?""Oh that was nothing." Zoya quickly tucked the chime in its dampener, locked

it back in its box. "Just imagine if I had allowed that fool earthquake to escape,

we'd be buried in rubble. But I wanted to make a point. There is more to this

world than what you read about in math or history books. There is more than you

can see. There is magic. There is a veil covering your eyes. If you look beyond,

you will find many wonderful and many terrible things."

"Baba Zoya. Did that really happen?" Masha tried to believe it, but it felt like a

dream. "Did you make the earth move?"

"Well of course I did." Zoya yawned. "And we can stop this storm. By myself Iam not strong enough. But the three of us? Perhaps we can scare it off."

"So what do we do?" Thomas asked, his heart stirring.

"Ah, now you're starting to believe." Zoya peered out the window. "I want you

to yell. Yell as loud and as long as you can. This storm I believe is a coward. And



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all cowards are afraid of confrontation, so..."

"So we scare the storm away?" Masha agreed.

"You must strike fear, like an arrow into its heart." Zoya's arms quivered.

"Now try it. Yell now!"

Thomas quickly shouted out the open window. "Aaaaaaaaaah!" Nothinghappened. Rain pelted down. Thunder rolled. "It's not working."

"And you little one."

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" Masha echoed his efforts. The storm yelled back. The rain

poured even harder. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure... Now all together."

"AAAAAAAAH!" They yelled again and again, together as a group. They

belted out their loudest, most aggressive banshee cries, sending them climbing

outward on updrafts of wind.Thomas opened his eyes. The rain had stopped, leaving only puddles. The

lightning had hidden in fear.

Masha couldn't believe it. "We- we did it."

Zoya turned away. "Of course we did. That is what family is for. Family is

strong together. Friends too malchik. And now, I must sleep." Zoya set her head

down, and in two breaths was snoring.

The world was calm. The world was at peace.

The Asuras were defeated by Daughter Shadow, but the world of men was

corrupted. Kingdoms fractured into factions. Factions splintered into tribes. On

one side of the world, the Prince of Pain ruled. As a child, he was a bully. As an

adult, he was a madman. His one true joy in life was hurting others.

In distant lands, the Prince of Chaos had his kingdom. He put good men on

trial and would destroy anyone who questioned him, burning cities to the ground.

Near the mountains, the Prince of Desire had domain. He let his fortresses

decay into ruin while his people starved, always day dreaming, minding other

worlds.The Prince of War lived in camps in the rocky crags of the Northern Isle. He

was obsessed with battle, in love with the ringing clash of swords. There was

nothing he spent more than the currency of fighting.

The world had darkened, to a shaded remembrance of itself and there was little





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god, imprisoned to the forgotten depths for his sins against time and life. As

Rahendra approached, Arjun could hear the clank , clank of his treachery

advancing forward.

"Hello brother. I've been waiting for you." Arjun had a wolf's-hair brush. The

tool was finishing up its last strokes of calligraphy on a piece of parchment laidout over a small table, polished bronze.

"Your time is over on this earth." Soul Splinter hummed. Rahendra's blade had

a demon inside. It was a living thing.

"I understand, and I accept it." Arjun replied, "The Fates have told me."

"Apsaras. Meddlers. And did they tell you my fortune perhaps?"

"You should ask them yourself. Men's fates are not to be shared with others."

Rahendra Taal had long since left the path of decency. His speech was vicious,

his words were toxins. The man who used to love his brother had been twisted byfate, his heart had been crushed by jealousy, anger, and despair. "Don't you

understand? They poisoned your mind. They feared your strength, and sent you

on the path of ruin. Peace? You could have stormed the heavens. From night to

sun, you could have taken everything under your hand." Rahendra's boots crushed

a white petal, one of many scattered on the ground. "And what will you do to stop

me? Will you fight?"

"No." A word, a drum beat underground. "I have given an oath. I will never

hurt another living creature. I will not fight you Rahendra even if you intend to

kill me."

Over the ages of his life, Taal had lost his sense of purpose. He was a wanderer

now, with a soul that hoped to fly but had been imprisoned. The locks were

forged by a dark heart, the chains were linked by a blighted mind. "I had expected

as much. You know, you were a great warrior once. A leader." Rahendra lifted

his battle blade and let it hover. "You didn't use to be a coward."

"Coward?" Arjun considered, doubt shadowed his dedications. "Perhaps. But-"

He hesitated, memories flooding him. "We destroyed too much in search of

peace. There is a time at which life must take priority to victory. It has to end."

He kept the brush moving smoothly. "You have a question to ask?"

"Where is the girl?"

"My blood? Never." A whisper reverberating in echoed canyons.

Rahendra's anger shook him like a hurricane, he felt Tephra's heat rise in his

heart. The dark lord was linked to him, it drove him, and boiled his blood.



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"Where is Asha's daughter? Where is the diamond flower? Tell me and I might

even let you live."

"Nayana? She's safe from you, far from your reach. You will never find her."

His tone was a funeral march in a minor key. Arjun couldn't help himself. He

ventured his eyes away from the parchment and allowed himself a glimpse of hisformer friend. "Do you remember? We used to walk together, down past the old

ruins, on to the riverbank. We would talk and we would fish Rahendra. Brother-

What happened to you?"

"Destiny." Rahendra answered, letting the blade slip, bringing it thudding,

crashing down.

Arjun clapped his eyes shut. His tongue moved. His lips murmured. He spoke

his poems, his hidden strength. From inner light to outer form, a surge of energy

splintered from his body, surrounding him as a sphere. A mantra of symbols

circled Arjun like feathers floating, suspended in air. Arjun's poems constructed ashield around his body as strong as steel. Sparks flew as Rahendra forced with all

his might against the holy man's protection. The covering glowed white hot at the

contact point.

"So you will resist?" Rahendra struggled, he put his shoulders into it.

Arjun hummed a thousand stories, a thousand poems, a thousand words. He

tried to remember why he fought. He did it for her, to save his only daughter. But

Rahendra had trained for years in the shadows, perfecting his treachery. Arjun felt

the pain of the demon blade surging towards his body. He felt the heat of the dark

fire, threatening to destroy him, the sting of its ash was in his eyes. "Brother,please--"

"Enough." Rahendra pierced the covering, shattering Arjun's kneeling form.

The demon inside the blade hissed. Taal commanded. "Feed." Soul Splinter

obeyed. It consumed Arjun's life, a parasite hooking in.

Rahendra looked away. "Farewell brother." Arjun's body lay crumpled on the

floor behind him. On the poet's cold lips, a thousand mantras faded. And the walls

that held the Asuras at bay. And the locks that kept death imprisoned. All

instantly shattered. The forces of darkness were set loose upon the land, a forest

fire coming upon dry trees in an endless summer. The enemy was hungry forrevenge, swiftly plotting against spirits and men. They were famished for war.

Rahendra heaved, struggling to drag his sword. Soul Splinter had drunk

Arjun's spirit. Its tip scraped in gluttony against the ground. It had consumed a

soul so powerful, so unique that it had transformed entirely. It was now Soul



15

Shatterer, Devourer-of-Might.

Rahendra Taal, Prince of Poison, looked out to the moon and stars. He mused.

"I know you're up there. I know you're watching. You think you control my

destiny? You think you can spin my fate? Listen carefully, sisters. Yama's forces

are gathering now. Death is rising. I will find Asha's daughter, whatever it takes."Rahendra clenched his fist, the servant of earth yelled. "I will stop your

meddling. And I will tear this world apart."



16

2. The Path Unspun

Nayana tried to remember her parents, her home. She had memories, but they

were becoming distant. Like diary entries scrawled in ink that had been blotted

out by sudden rainstorms. Fragments remained, faces, feelings. Whenever the

winds shifted, she found herself recalling familiar scents. The harsh blight of Shadow's winter, or the dazzling whiff of her mother's incense. As for her father,

he lived on in the stories.

Nayana was adjusting slowly to her new life. She missed the myths and the

legends. She longed after those strange mysteries that revealed themselves when

you were least expecting it. When you would be walking along in a certain sliver

of the world, and if you looked close enough? If you turned your head just the

right way, you would find the forgotten places.

Nayana went to school and did her homework, but she had no friends. They

would approach her in the halls, but her guardian had sharply warned, "No onecan be trusted." So she kept to herself, always waiting for the news to come.

Nayana hoped for peace, she daydreamed about the day that a herald would arrive

at her doorstep and shout, "The war is over." But it was a message that never

arrived.

Two students in particular caught her interest. On a special occasion meant for

showing, one brought her grandmother to school. Baba Zoya whispered in her

hoarse voice. She spoke about magic. She talked about things that lived in the

nooks and crannies of the imagination. Even though the children snickered,

Nayana knew she was telling the truth. Her granddaughter's name was Masha.The other student was a force of nature. Thomas Page was a black hole, with a

gravitational pull that attracted the sum total of attention in any room. Thomas

could, at a moment's notice, do something so daring, so bold, that the students and

the teachers would find their heads whipped and their necks cranked towards him.

He would pull them in, like a master magician. He would grab their interest. But

sadly, unlike the average illusionist, Page would often 'hide the rabbit in his hat'

in a matter of speaking, only to never find it again.

On a walk home under a bleak and clouded sky, Nayana was already feeling

pangs of anxiety. Branches thick with leaves flickered in the wind, sendingshadows scrambling after her. Street lights stood stark, throwing spears of light

down. And then, a sudden fright. The cold, sharp ka, ka of a crow pierced the sky

overhead. A shiver worked its way down Nayana's spine, twisting like a worm

through the vertebrae. She hid, quickly, back against the wall, and watched as the

black bird hovered, its wings slowly beating. Finally, the crow passed, an ever



17

morose shadow above. Nayana knew she had to be careful. The enemy would

send spies searching for her. And their forces came in all forms.

At home, the shadowed figure greeted her kindly but saw the look. "What's

wrong?" The steward took her chin. "Were you followed?" A mark on the back of

his hand was distinct, a scrawled symbol of some ancient tongue."No." Nayana replied, but she wasn't sure. Could the bird have been a

damogami? A spirit corrupted by the devil's hands? Was it a servant of darkness,

or was she overreacting?

The voice spoke. "They can't find you here Nayana, I promise I'll keep you

safe."

"I want to go home."

"As do I. But you know we can't." A sigh. "Would you like to hear a story?

Maybe that would help you take your mind off these things that trouble you."

"Is it a story about my father?"

"Of course, if that's what you'd like to hear."

Nayana sank into the chair. "Then I suppose I'll listen."

"Good." The voice lit up, sparking the story to life. "When Arjun had united

every kingdom and all the lands of men, he quickly realized the Asuras would

never leave him in peace. They were creatures of hate, forged by the dark god

Tephra himself. Just as fire's only purpose is to burn and smother, the Asuras' true

ideal was the complete and utter destruction of everything good. Hope, peace, and

love would all be eliminated if the enemy was to succeed.""Arjun turned his attention to the borderlands. The demons were building

weapons, reequipping for a terrible war. Arjun knew he had to strike quickly,

shattering the enemy's stronghold before they could summon their full strength,

bringing terror once again to the world."

"What happened then?"

"Then? Arjun gathered the greatest warriors from every valley and hill, from

every lake and river. He recruited friends as well as enemies, pleading with them

to band together. Their only chance to stop the rising flood was to ignore their

differences and their feuds. Arjun worked diligently, gathering an army unlikeanything ever seen. This new front gathered, sunlight kissing unfurled banners.

Their forces spread beyond the farthest hills into the mists of dawn. They were

known as The White Guard."

"Arjun brought the troops of light against the citadel Tandeska in the eastern



18

cliffs. It was a great stronghold where the Asura chieftain ruled. It stood with

walls that towered in heavy sleep, black scars above. For days they assaulted the

fortress. For days the enemy resisted. The Asuras sent out waves of soldiers.

Some were demons. Some were men who had been corrupted. Irkalla was there to

resist them.""The queen of storms?"

"Yes. Imoain's sister fought with lightning. She fought with hurricane winds.

But still, it was not enough."

"So- how did they win?"

"Ah. They won by Arjun's gift. The gift of forethought. The gift of strategy.

You see, Arjun? Your father? He took with him to battle, a secret weapon. He

brought with him a Deva, trapped. Devas were ancients. Living weapons created

by the old ones. Most had been killed during the First War. But Arjun understood

that a few had survived for thousands of years. These last remnants of a lost racewere scattered far, hidden in the forgotten spaces of the world. So Arjun traveled

south, past the stretches of man's imagination. He found himself in the deepest

desert. Alone he braved the harshest sun. In that wasteland lived the sand Deva

known as Sorrow-of-Long-Hunger. Alone for a thousand years, it waited. It

rested beneath the earth for centuries, until it felt the vibrations of Arjun's feet on

the sands."

"A magnificent serpent, Sorrow arose to challenge your father, scales

glistening all different colors. She hissed, her voice the screams of a thousand

winds, 'What are you that walks upon the earth, frail beyond measure?' She hadnever seen a human before. Arjun simply replied, 'I am here to take you. And you

will find out soon whether or not I am weak.' Arjun fought Sorrow. He struggled

against her might, pummeling her for days, before finally subduing her iron will.

Your father captured this lower god and trapped it in a soul stone, where spirits

are kept."

"It must've been beautiful."

"It was an amazing creature, splendid and terrible both. Your father waited

until a strategic moment presented itself, when the Asuras revealed a flaw in their

defenses. At the opportunity, Arjun acted quickly. He called Sorrow-of-Long-Hunger, and in a display of light and arcing flashes she burst from the stone.

When this Deva saw the Asura citadel, she trembled with rage. 'I know this sight!'

'You recognize them?' Arjun asked. The creature hissed, 'These- things destroyed

my kind, centuries ago.' Arjun said. 'Punish them then. That is why I brought you



19

here.'"

"The Deva quickly agreed. Sorrow summoned a blade that shined bright like

stars under a pale moon. The weapon was ornamented with carvings and symbols.

As it sliced through the air it made a fierce sound, like ten thousand crickets

chirping. And its size? It was as large as four men bold and heavier still. AndSorrow hammered at the citadel. And Sorrow struck down the walls of Tandeska.

As the barracks fell, Arjun surged forward. The White Guard took victory that

day, and sent the enemy running."

"That is a good story."

"That it is. But war has returned child, a blaze fiercer than ever before."

Nayana's guardian set his head back resting. "Your world is ending. And that is

why you cannot return."

Time passed, birthdays. The colors of the world changed from bright to gray

and back again. Vanya waited, counting the days, the months. Even behind the

walls, they called him 'uncle,' a term of endearment. A term of respect. When he

first arrived, a group of men had challenged him. But it was water against steel,

and steel won.

Vanya's shoulders stood like stark walls as he stared through rusted bars. He

had spent his time inside doing nothing much but playing chess and doing chin-

ups. He loved to toy with his captors, finding ways to open doors that were

supposed to be shut. Setting off alarms after he had already left. When the guards

would sprint and run and hustle to challenge the supposed intruder, all they foundwere ghosts. Of course, Vanya could have escaped those walls at any moment,

but if he did he knew he would spend his life hiding, always on the run. So he

waited. And time marched forward as it often does.

A figure approached, with a freshly ironed button-up shirt. "Vanya Petrov?"

The guard checked his clipboard.

"Yes?"

"They're waiting."

The guard cuffed him carefully. He knew, as every officer in the facility knewthat Vanya was a professional. His hands were the conductor, his fingers the

orchestra. So the guards checked the locks. And then they double checked. This

brought a smile to Vanya's face. "What are you so worried about?"

"You."



20

Vanya was led into a small office with a desk at one end and a chair at the

other. A panel of two men and a woman in glasses waited. One of the men had a

sharp suit with a pink tie, the other was balding, the roots of his hair held on for

dear life. They watched him carefully, eyeing each gesture, each move he made.

The guard sat him in the chair and faded to the back of the room, waiting."Well?" Vanya's chains rattled.

The sharp suit man checked his file. "Vanya Petrov. Let's get to the point. You

were convicted on multiple counts. You were convicted and you were sentenced.

And now? Now that time has passed, do you think you've received the

appropriate punishment?"

"Well- I never hurt anyone."

"Except for those six men. When you first arrived?"

Vanya recalled the incident and shrugged. "Oh that? That was an accident, I

can be so clumsy sometimes."

"Vanya." The woman eyed him like he was some kind of science experiment,

"we realize that if you get out, there will be a temptation to go back to the old

life."

"But you can't." The pink tie man. "You can't go back. Because if you do?

There won't be a second chance."

"I have no intention of returning to my errors." He assured them, and Vanya

meant it.

"Good. And what will you do instead? Do you have an alternative?" Thebalding man annoyed Vanya with a slight whistle in his voice.

"Perhaps... I could work as a mechanic. I'm good with cars."

"Let me get to the point." The pink tie man. "Due to your overall good

behavior, and due to a recent crisis of overcrowding here, we've decided--"

Vanya's breathing stopped.

The pink tie man continued. "We've decided to grant you an early parole."

His heart jumped. "And I can see my family again? Is this real?"

"Vanya?" She spoke. "You're not a thief anymore, do you understand?""No. Absolutely not." Vanya was sincere. " All I want is to go home again. If

you give me a chance? I admit I made mistakes in the past. But I am a good man

now, I swear."

"Ok." The sharp suit man closed the file shut. "Guess that settles it."



21

"We're done here." The bald man stood.

"I can go now?"

"Just don't leave the state without permission, or you'll be end up back here, in

front of us." The woman spoke. "Guard, unlock his cuffs."

"Oh." Vanya stood. "That won't be necessary." He slipped the chains off andhanded them over.

The guard gaped, as Vanya calmly strolled out the door. "Sir! Sir, there's a

numbered code to get out."

And the former prisoner threw a comment back. "I already know it."

Vanya felt the wind hit his chest as he took his first breath outside the walls.

He exhaled, the cold air reached out with its tentacles and stung his fingertips. A

figure stood waiting, with tank-like shoulders and slicked back hair. The free man

spoke, "Vladimir.""We've missed you Vanya." Vanya tried to push past him. Vladimir followed

with his eyes, a gaze recorded behind stark shades. "So- when are you coming

back? We can celebrate, yeah?"

"Never."

Vladimir shouted after him. "You can't hide what you are. You can't deny your

true nature." Vanya was out of sight. Vladimir quickly made a call. "He's out."

Vanya knew his former associates would try to drag him back into their games.

He knew they needed his skills. But this time was different. This time he had

made a choice. He would disregard his former life. He would be a good man now.And he would see his niece again, tell her stories. On the long walk home his

heart raced, hoping she would be there. As he turned the corner, he wondered if

she could forgive him. At the front door, his beloved treasure, his hope was

waiting.

Masha smiled. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be back."

Thomas nudged Masha at the doorstep of the brownstone. Concrete steps led

up to a faded green door with blue trim. "You knock."

"No, you knock."

"This was your idea." Thomas returned.

"Alright then. If you're scared?"



22

"Scared? No, I just think it's rude. We don't even know her." Of course that had

never stopped Page before. It wasn't the meeting with a stranger that bothered

him, it was the imposing building and the beast that glared on the door. "Oh

look." He glanced up at the sky. "It's a fool moon tonight."

"What did you say?" She thought she had misheard him."You know? A fool moon." He repeated. "Like it sings songs, plays the flute,

and trips over itself or something."

Masha let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a 'full' moon Thomas. Full."

His mind clicked. "Ahhhh. That makes much more sense now that I think about

it. Too bad it doesn't have any musical talents after all. But I guess that's a good

thing it's not hungry."

"Really?" Her thoughts were twisting at his puzzled logic. "Let's just knock,

ok?" Masha stepped up to the door, the anticipation of discovery at her fingertips.

She grabbed the brass ring from the lion's mouth and rattled it three times. Crack,

crack, crack. Moments passed before the door opened with a grumble.

As the gap widened Nayana shyly stood. The girl was what you might call a

ewel, royalty separated from her birth right, torn from her home. She had the

grace of a king's daughter, and eyes that were pathways to starlight only imagined

in another world. "Um, hello?"

"Hi. Sorry if we're bothering you, it's just--"

Thomas extended a hand. "We're here to welcome you to the neighborhood.

I'm Thomas. Thomas Page. This here's Masha. And you are?""Oh. I'm really not supposed to talk to strangers." Nayana wondered if she

should shut the door.

"Strangers? We're the farthest thing away from strangers." Thomas tried to

peer inside. "We're from your school."

Nayana considered carefully the pros and the cons of accepting this

conversation. She could have shut the door. She could have hidden in supposed

safety. But Nayana remembered the stories her steward had told. She was the

child of a great warrior, the greatest who ever lived. And she was tired of

running. "My name's Nayana.""Cool." Page pressed forward, and before Nayana could stop him, he was

inside.

She blinked. "I don't remember inviting him in." Nayana wasn't angry, just

curious.



23

Masha stood alone, acutely embarrassed. "Oh, that's just- Well Thomas never

thinks. He just acts. He's kind of like a crazy robot that you'd like to know

because he makes you laugh, but he destroys things and you always wonder if it's

such a good idea having him around. But then he usually makes up for it, so in

the end I'd say he's a friend I'd rather have than forget.""Oh."

"Masha, check out this place!" A boy's voice echoed out from inside.

"Would you like to come in?" Nayana offered.

"Love to." And Masha's feet found their way to a pleasant clip-clop, clip-clop

on polished wood floors.

Thomas's eyes were captured by the scenery. Marble statues twisted into

measured poses. Paintings of ancient scholars adorned the walls. "Very

interesting," Thomas mused, "must be from the ancient, uh, Novgorod era, with a

hint of orthodox influence. Plus a dash of Byzantitanium flavoring on the side."

"He's just making this up, isn't he?" Nayana whispered to Masha. She couldn't

help but smile.

"Sadly, yes."

Nayana spoke up, her voice was surprisingly calm and comforting. "Those

statues were here when we moved in. I don't really know much about their

history." Nayana led the pair down the long hall past portraits and chambers until

they came to the kitchen. Masha had her eyes set on the white tiles and green

tiles, each forming an army. Each army fighting a checkerboard war on the floor."Would you like something to eat?" Their host asked politely.

"I'd like a cookie." Like an explorer traveling the darkest heart of Africa to find

a lost treasure, Thomas scoured the kitchen with his eyes. His jungle was the

pantries, his treasure the snacks inside. "You have cookies?"

"Yes." Nayana opened the cupboard and handed one over. Thomas stuffed it

into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. "Mmm." His eyes flicked open. "Yummy.

You made these?"

"My- guardian did. But he's not here right now."

"You mean your dad." Thomas chewed down.

"No." Nayana replied in a hushed tone. And her lips went cold as she said it,

"My parents are dead."

"Oh... Oh." The crumbs quickly dried in Page's mouth, sticking to his throat.



24

"It's ok. Nobody's ever cared enough to ask."

"I'm sorry Nayana. I can't imagine losing my parents. Being all alone?" Masha

scanned Nayana's face, trying to determine her country of origin. "You're not

from around here are you?"

"I'm not." Nayana was a flower swept off by the winds. "I am a refugee."Thomas added. "Oh yeah, from one of those places out there that's being torn

apart by battles and all that right?"

Nayana pumped her head. "Yes. Where I live there's a terrible war going on.

Most people want peace, but there are soldiers fighting to take my home from the

people who live there. My guardian brought me here to protect me, but I'm still

worried."

"Worried? Well, that's a spoonful of salt on your tongue. There's no wars here,

at least not any nearby." Page continued. "You'll be safe here, unless you like- try

to cross the street blindfolded or something. But you wouldn't do that. Or would

you?"

"I'm not so sure. I'm afraid they might find me here." Nayana was anxious. Her

steward should have been back by now. It wasn't like him to leave her alone for

this long.

"Nonsense." Thomas scoffed. "You're like- a million miles away from

wherever you were, right?"

"Yes, but-" Nayana's eyes diverted. "My parents were very important people.

And they have enemies."Page stared, he was taken in by the sight of this young woman standing before

him. "Enemies? Well- I'd protect you."

"Would you?" Nayana felt comforted by this assertion. "Would you do that

Thomas?"

"In a heart beat. Yeah, I'm trained."

"Fencing club doesn't make you a bodyguard." Masha interjected. She turned

back to their host. "You'd better be careful about asking Thomas for help. He'd

watch out for you and then he'd probably knock you off a cliff or something

accidentally while he was trying to keep you safe. So, there's that. But there issomeone," Masha continued. "If you're ever in trouble, if anyone tries to hurt

you? My uncle will take care of them. All you have to do is ask."

"Your uncle? What's he like?"

"Stronger than anyone." Masha sat next to Nayana, confiding in her. "They call



25

him the brick wall, his friends. I heard stories, that my uncle, when he was

younger, he could stop a charging bull with one hand. He's so strong? That when

he meets you with his eyes, most people don't bother arguing with him. They run."

Nayana felt a shiver. "He sounds very, dangerous."

"What? No... He is the safest, nicest, most gentle person in the world. Unlessyou cross him. And you probably shouldn't cross him." Masha continued.

"Nayana. If you're ever in trouble, you'll call me right? And I'll let him know."

Nayana nodded. "Thanks for listening. I'm so tired of hiding. I keep waiting for

the war to end so I can go home. But the fighting never stops."

Page perked up. "Maybe we could all go back together. You know, like on a

camping trip?"

Nayana considered the possibility. These two intruders seemed like they would

make good friends. But Nayana knew her home was treacherous, not the place for

casual adventure. "I'd be happy to have you. But I'm not sure you'd like it there.

It's very dangerous."

"Nonsense! What could possibly hurt Thomas Archibald Page, hero of heroes?

I mean what's there to be afraid of, right? Besides sharp things that spin really

quickly. That I could do without." His words rang clear, but before they could

reverberate much farther than a mouse's yell, a ka, ka from outside the window

assaulted their ears. "What's that?"

Nayana turned, shivering. The ka, ka rang out again and she froze.

"What?" Page was puzzled. "What's wrong?""Hurry!" She insisted, her heart pumping hard. Nayana had been anxious for

hours, since her guardian set out on an errand and never returned. She had felt a

creeping, crawling inner dread in that lonely place, with all those stretching halls.

And now it was here. The horror had wings and it cried to the night. She turned to

her friends. "You have to hide!"

Masha didn't understand but as she witnessed Nayana's fear, she quickly

shoved Page's spindly body into the nearest closet.

"Hey!"

"Shhh." Masha put a finger up.

They stared through a crack in the door. Thomas whispered. "Uh- What's going

on exactly? Is this a game?"

"She's obviously suffering from trauma Thomas." Masha answered. "Be

sensitive."



26

"It's a very strange game, if that's what it is." Page kept an eye out. "Does it by

any chance involve pancakes?" Masha shot him a look. "French toast?"

And on the far side of the room, one crow. One bird as black as sin, as dark as

the most terrible abyss arrived through the open window. Nayana stood watching.

The muscles in her body had frozen to icicles, her composure was in danger of shattering at the slightest touch. She stared in shock at the creature. The crow

flapped forward, fluttering. It landed with sharp claws clicking on the table.

Malice locked its cold eyes on her, taking in her form. Nayana whispered.

"Please... Don't take me back."

The crow whipped its head back suddenly. Its beak opened wide, flooding the

world with an inexplicable cry. Malice belted waves of anguish. It screamed with

rushing fear. Masha and Thomas clapped their ears shut. "What's going on?"

Thomas moaned. "What's that noise?"

"We have to do something." Masha shoved the door open. But it was too late.Nayana turned. She gave them both one last pleading stare. One last hopeful

glance framed her, before the black mass arrived. An army of crows. A flood of

dark-winged, bursting, feather-beating beasts drove in through the window. The

crows wrapped Nayana in a blanket of bones and feathers. They swallowed her

whole. The surge of motion carried Nayana away and out the window.

Thomas stared, blinking. "Did I- did I just see what I thought I saw, cause I

don't think I saw it."

Masha grabbed him. "Hurry!"

They smashed through the front door, outside to the moonlight. The black massunfolded. Nayana stood beneath them, a few still hovering. Two stallions were

waiting, bound to a carriage. The red of their eyes left a trail as their restless

heads moved, light smearing. The black crow fluttered on a statue. The eyes of

Malice flickered, scanning the two intruders. "Ka! Ka!" And the statue shifted--

A sharp arm whipped out, like a branch extending from a dead tree that had

been the victim of some failed botany experiment. The statue was covered in a

cloak of shadow, hiding a creature of blight and suffering deep inside. Gyrgan,

Black Shaman, Master of Shadows eyed the pair with disgust.

Page shouted. "Hey! You there!" Gyrgan sharply turned. "Don't you know whoI am? I am Thomas Page. And you will release that girl or I will- Aah-" Gyrgan

reached under his cloak, to reveal a long whip, taller than Thomas was. A thin

hiss erupted from the shaman's lips. Thomas took a step back. "Uh, Masha.

Trouble here... Got any ideas?"



27

"I'm thinking." Masha searched for help. But there was no one.

Gyrgan turned back to his prey. Nayana was locked into the shaman's gaze,

hypnotized by his magic. He pushed her into the cabin and the door locked shut.

Then Gyrgan leaped aboard. He whipped the reigns with a crack. The horses

neighed and galloped. The carriage was pulled swiftly forward, its wheelsrocketing along the pavement.

"Masha- Right about now would be the time to come up with an amazing plan."

"I have to find my uncle." And she was off. "Wait here!"

"Ok, then." Thomas swallowed. He would have chased, but the carriage was

already out of sight, beyond the curve of the hill. "I'll just- keep watch. Ok. No

problem."

Inside a small room, Vanya was engaged in a game with his friends. They were

gathered around a table, each man clutching his cards. Vanya's opponent grinned.

"So, my old friend. Do you have what it takes?"

Vanya stared at the red cards in his hand. "I raise." He slid the chips out.

"I think you're bluffing."

Outside the establishment, Masha ran up breathless. Blocking the entrance was

a massive man, the size of a grizzly bear. Masha tried to force the words out, but

her lungs were still catching up. "Please- you have to help-"

The bouncer shook his bulbous head. "Get lost."

"No, you don't understand. My uncle is in there." Masha tried to push past. He

grabbed her. "Let- go!""Can't let you in. No kids allowed."

"But-" Masha fumed. She took out a piece of paper and scribbled a note. "Will

you give this to Vanya?"

"And what if I don't?"

Masha made her point clear. "If you don't give it to him, he will be very angry.

And he's not the kind of person you'd want to upset." Masha quickly ran, as fast

as her legs could carry her. She found herself at Nayana's house where Thomas

waited.

"Where's your uncle?"

"I couldn't get him. We have to find Nayana."

"But- what about the police or something?"

"And what are we going to tell them? That a bunch of crows and a hooded



28

stranger kidnapped our friend? They'll never believe us. There has to be a way."

Masha leaned down, inspecting the ground. "Look. There's tracks." There were

scratch marks, and black splashes of mud where the carriage had left a faded trail.

"Let's go!" And they were off.

They followed the markings, made right turns. Masha kept her eye on the trail,losing it occasionally on the rain slicked streets before they found themselves in

an old park, one long forgotten by pedestrians and the sun, its ruined landscape

covered in weeds and moss.

Masha's eyes strained for one last sight of the rider's destination. And then she

saw it. "There!" She ran quickly to a spot where the tracks continued. And as she

followed the line of their movement, she saw an old tunnel that cut straight

through the hill. "That's where he went!"

"Are we supposed to go in there?"

"We have to." Masha kept her focus on the dark well ahead. "Are you afraid?"

"What- me? Now that would be the unlikeliest of possibilities. And what is it

with you accusing me of cowardice lately?"

"Well you didn't want to knock just because of some silly lion on the door."

"Whatever." Page huffed a sigh. "I'm not afraid of anything. You'll see."

"So you're ready, we should go?" Masha tested his resolve.

"Yeah, I mean. It's probably just a cave or something. How far could it take

us?"

"Then hurry." They sprinted forward. They ran inside the tunnel, through theshadows. Darkness covered them. The trees stood still as silence spread.

The world shattered, splintering into a field of white light, a thousand faces,

and the shadows of mystery. The paths of destiny twisted around them, entwining

them in a web. They were carried forward through time and space, then promptly

ejected into an alternate phrase, a new condition. Masha stood slowly. Thomas

dusted himself off. They were in a forest. Blue flowers carpeted the scene. Green

trees extended into a valley beyond. She searched for a sight of the carriage.

"Look!"

Thomas peered over the ledge. At the bottom of a small rock cliff Gyrgandrove swiftly forward, faster than they could hope to follow. "We're too late." It

was then that the adrenaline of their chase wore off. Thomas turned. He started to

look around, began to take it all in. Every color was new, every shape was

unfamiliar. "Uh, Masha... Where are we? Cause I'd like to know."



29

Masha stared upward, taking in the sea of brown and green, trees that reached

for the heavens. The sky was blue, but it was a different shade of blue. The sun

was alive here, watching their every move. This was a new world, an unfamiliar

path, and Masha said with a shiver. "Thomas... I don't suppose you brought a

compass?"

Outside his meeting place, the guard motioned. "Hey." Vanya turned. "Some-

girl came by. She said to give you this note."

Vanya took the note and read it carefully. He wasn't sure of the details. But he

was clear on one thing. His niece, his treasure was in trouble. And that drove him

forward with a sudden force. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I- I'm sorry." The bouncer felt weak in the knees at Vanya's impatience.

Vanya was off. He hadn't made it a few blocks before a town car glided to a

stop. Vanya felt a pang in his stomach as the window rolled open to reveal Yuri,

his former employer. Father to a crime syndicate, Yuri's gray eyes slid along

Vanya's form.

"Vanya." Yuri spoke up. "Come now, you've been avoiding us ever since you

were released. What's the matter? Aren't you one of us? Aren't you a member of

the family anymore?"

"Things have changed. I'm different now."

"You've changed? I don't believe it. You are a criminal. That is your nature."

"No.""Oh, and what will you do, now that you are free in the world? What exactly

are you capable of? Will you become a doctor? A lawyer perhaps? Oh, I know,

you could run for office. I could help with that." Yuri's thin lips peeled back to

reveal pale yellow teeth. "Listen. The only skill you have is to open safes. That is

your gift. That is your blessing. Never forget, you are a thief."

"Not anymore."

"Short and to the point as always, but I'm afraid there are debts to pay. Old

scores unsettled." Yuri frowned, "Get in the car Vanya. You must come with us

now." Yuri tried to emit a smile, but his grin was about as convincing as fireconsuming a village trying to tell you it was 'only visiting.'

"You don't understand. My niece... She's in trouble."

A pause as Yuri consumed that scrap of information. "Your niece? Well she

must be a very pretty girl for you to be out looking for her." Yuri let his tongue



30

click disapprovingly. "Come with me now. I'm not asking."

Vanya felt his fingers clench as they dangled at his waist. He felt the blood

pumping, anger surging. Vanya's vision narrowed. His arms shook. His entire

body was consumed with an almost unlimited passion, a desire to strike them

down. And he could've done it too. Be he had made a promise to himself, never touse violence. Never to strike out unless it was absolutely necessary. So Vanya

used the best weapon he had at his disposal, the sharpest blade. He set his cold

eyes into Yuri's skin, sinking that glare so deeply into the overweight criminal

that it caused him an immediate shortness of breath. Yuri, champion-of-bank-

robbers would have simply fainted away had he not been surrounded by

bodyguards.

Vanya stared hard and deep. "I must find my Masha. She could be in danger."

Yuri's eyes averted themselves, a weakness of the spirit. He was a pack animal

relegated to a cub by the alpha male. "I am going to find her. You will not stopme."

Yuri looked at his hand and saw that his arm was trembling. The old man

spoke, a clouded mirror of his former thunder. "We will talk soon." His voice

trailed off. "Yes, we will talk." Yuri made a motion with his fingers. The car

accelerated, leaving Vanya to his fate.

Vanya found the tracks. He asked questions. Witnesses had seen his niece and

her friend. He felt in his heart that time was short. So he marched forward. And

he found the park overrun by neglect. He found the tunnel. Vanya stood, staring

into the pitch black night of the passage that yawned before him. Now there was achoice to be made. Stay and accept reason, science, logic. All the things that were

most familiar and comfortable. The other choice. Leap into the unknown. Face

the strangeness.

But in the end the decision was simple. Family came first. Loyalty came before

fear, doubt, shadows. Love stood before every obstacle. So Vanya charged

forward, challenging sudden shadows, and came upon a thin curtain of light that

stretched like a web through the tunnel. Vanya took a breath and barreled through

it. And somewhere, on the far side of some remote plain in a distant world, Vanya

winced. His eyes adjusted to the light. A parched plateau of dying grass andwithered trees stretched out before him. He had traveled through one side of the

world, and had come out on the flip edge of another.

Vanya sensed danger lurking here. He felt fear in the air, a cold wind blowing.

But he was the meteor that struck the moon and kept on going, shattering sky. He

was the charger that stood against walls of water, shrugging them off. He was the



31

storm surging. And his purpose was clear.

"I am coming for you Masha. I will find you."



32

3. What Was Lost

Kara Ghan was used to the teasing by the other villagers. He was familiar with

the sideways looks, the taunts that followed him as he passed. The farmers knew

what they were capable of, they would break the ground and plant seeds. The

hunters understood their destiny. They would trap and kill. Kara had no purpose.He wasn't a chief or a fisherman. But he felt something pulsing through his body,

it was the strains of magic infecting his blood.

Unlike the other villagers, Kara could feel a song in the world around him. He

was aware of it, passing through deadening perception into a choir that could only

be heard by one. To a farmer the ground was meant for growing. To Kara the

earth had power, hidden deep. To the hunters the trees were tools they could use

to carve arrows or firewood. But Kara knew more, he could hear the Piri dwelling

inside. In his quest for knowledge, Kara would spend long days in the forest. He

listened to the animals and the spirits, and he learned their assorted tongues.After years had passed, and Kara had shrugged off countless insults, the chief

of the village was struck down with an illness. Any day at any time he could've

died. So the chief called Kara quickly to his hut. He was aware that the young

man was unique, shaped differently by fate. When the elder asked this young

scholar if he could save him from his misery, Kara told him he would try.

Kara went to the forest and spoke to the Piri spirits, and they agreed to help

him. They guided him to a clearing, where they offered one of their own. A small

plant with red flowers sacrificed itself in Kara's hands, and the chief was cured

from its leaves. A crow let its sharp song ring as the village elder was broughtback to life. But the villagers, who should have been grateful, only hated Kara

more. They feared his power over life and death and they cast him out. "Power,"

they said, "you have too much of it."

But they were wrong. The simple alchemy he had discovered was just a

whisper in a yawning cavern. It left him feeling empty, faded. Kara's passion for

mastery over the elements quickly grew, weeds spreading in his heart. So the

scholar traveled far, learning, searching. Until he arrived at Baudas, a magnificent

city of invention. Kara searched its vast libraries, shelves sweeping into the

shadows. He looked for deeper truths, but all he found were words. "Knowledge

is power." The administrators assured him.

Kara asked. "Can knowledge lift mountains? Can you destroy a city with

words?"

"Some who have studied found that power." But as often as he tried, Kara



33

could never find those secrets in the dusty stacks of books.

When Kara met his first sorcerers, there was a brief hope of unraveling the

mysteries. They lived in Baudas, trading secrets. They knew magic, but it was the

work of conjurers. Spells and incantations and potions. It was not the magic of

the earth or of the sun. It annoyed Kara to think about it. How silly it was. It waslike children playing games and making sparks. Laughing at their fireworks,

clapping to congratulate themselves. Kara hoped to find a deeper knowledge, to

unwind the threads of life itself.

In time, Kara learned of a holy man named Doyen Haddis who lived in the

western mountains, far from Shadow's grasp. An elusive figure, Haddis was of

indeterminate age. Some guessed that he had tasted amrita, the nectar of life.

Some imagined that he was the Lord of Thunder, hiding in the mountains after

hundreds of years. But the truth was simpler. He had found peace in the

mountains. He had discovered a place where he could listen to the song of theuniverse, its expanses stretching out in his mind. This was a man who could stare

down any specter, even one as great as The Devourer of Time. Inner peace gave

him the strength to conquer fear.

Kara found himself at the base of a mountain where it ascended, driving

towards the sun. He climbed for days, and every time he conquered a peak, he

would find another one waiting to laugh at his efforts. When Kara found Haddis,

the old man sat with eyes closed, knees folded, meditating. A red patch was

painted on his forehead, with white lines that spread out beneath. Gray hair

traveled down the path of sideburns to a beard that curled like smoke. "I knewyou would come."

"How could you know?"

"Because I understand. The world is more than men and beasts, more than

leaping and falling. Will you listen?"

Kara accepted, and Haddis taught the young scholar. Years passed and the

learning continued through summers and snows. He taught Kara the mysteries of

the world. How it formed, how the old ones had fought. Kara learned how the

lines of creation could be seen and manipulated if you were trained to focus.

Haddis taught his student symbols, icons of power. They were remnants of a losttongue from the days when creature of light and fire walked the earth, before men

existed. He taught Kara how to fight.

Kara had discovered power, but his path was dark. His master spoke words of

peace but Kara wasn't comfortable with the idea of purity, it bored him. After a



34

long walk to visit the forest spirits, Kara returned to find the temple with statues

smashed and arrows scattered about. Fires licked stone walls and a column of

smoke spiraled above. As Kara searched, he found Haddis with his back twisted,

face to the sky, mouth gaping.

A spear was broken at the shaft, piercing his master's troubled heart. But aflicker of emerald green caught his eye. In the shadow of terror, a miracle was

growing. The tip of the weapon had been altered. Where it had been thrust

through the Doyen's chest, leaves grew, a carpet of grass was sprouting. Haddis's

body had altered the wood and brought it back to life. The weapon had

transformed, becoming Spring-in-Grieving.

A black crow hovered overhead. "Ka, ka." It spun around, until Kara realized it

was guiding him. So he followed the sentry for days, until he found the sons of

war who had killed his master. He looked down on their camp and he swore

revenge.Kara observed the gathering of killers and made his move. He stirred a fierce

wind that swept forward, masking his approach. As he found the captain of their

group, a barbarian with a heavy axe, Kara attacked. But a hidden archer let an

arrow fly, piercing him sharp, cutting short his vengeance. Kara Ghan dropped,

bleeding. He watched, helpless as they pinned him down. He heard the cry of his

guide overhead. The black bird hovered. The brigand smashed his blade through

Kara's chest. And as they left him to die, his mind fading, the only comfort Kara

had was the nameless crow, circling above. Circling above, circling.

Kara recovered slowly. His master had taught him peace, but Kara's heart wastwisted by the Doyen's death. He was driven by hate and anger consumed him. So

he traveled to the ash lands, down into the burning chasms. He found himself at

the gates of Tephra's domain, chained god. Demon of fire and earth.

Tephra was an old god, brother to Mother Sun. It was he who had forged the

Asuras. It was this creature of spite whose only wish was to end all hope. And he

hated that his children had been defeated by the forces of good in the past. When

Kara Ghan asked for strength, he wanted nothing more than revenge. But Tephra

was cunning. His one true aim was chaos and suffering for the world above. So

he offered Kara immense power, more than he could imagine. But only if hewould make a sacrifice. Tephra offered him revenge, if Kara would eradicate the

good inside. The young scholar quickly accepted.

Tephra tossed Kara into the deepest pit where his body smoldered. When he

was brought back, his form had been twisted and shattered. His hate had driven

him to the path of ruin. He was now Gyrgan, Shattered Bone, Glance-of-Cold-



35

Suffering. The faithful crow who had followed him into the underworld was

crushed by Tephra's fist. But Gyrgan revived him. The bird became Malice, a

heart beating as dark as its feathers. Together, the pair set off.

Gyrgan dealt harshly with the sons of war who had killed his master, clearing

them from the earth. As a token to his Doyen, he took Spring-in-Grieving andthrust it through the barbarian's chest. As the last murderer lay dying, an

explosion of shoots and tendrils flooded from the fatal wound, carpeting their

bodies. A garden, as green and lush as any rainforest, flourished from where they

had fallen. Shattered Bone had sent them all to ruin. Their souls followed glowing

lamps to the gates of death. There Yama welcomed them in, fresh recruits to his

army.

When Gyrgan returned to the underworld, Tephra forged a sword for his

convert. The touch of its hilt by any stranger meant instant death. Wielding the

sword gave Gyrgan a direct link to the power of the earth. The blade was calledDespair-in-Ending. But one day, after generations had passed, a particularly sly

and quick fingered thief sneaked into Gyrgan's hut. He wrapped Despair so as not

to touch it and snatched the blade ever-so-quietly from Shattered Bone's sleeping

grasp. When Gyrgan awoke, and saw the life force of the one who had taken his

prize, the creature of woe stood sharp.

Gyrgan screamed the name of the thief. "Windspring!" The earth shook.

Trees. As far as the eye could see, a blanket of green covered a sea of running

hills and sleeping mountain ridges. The sun was set high, light charging down.They had been wandering for hours along the path before Thomas mentioned

abruptly, "You know? We are really lost."

"We're not lost. We're going east. That is, if the sun sets in the same direction

here. All we have to do is keep following. If we keep moving we'll find Nayana

eventually."

"And then what?"

"We can't just sit back and do nothing. And what's with you all of a sudden?

You're the one who's always running into situations without even thinking, right?

When did you start using common sense?"

"Oh," Thomas pondered. For a few brief moments caution had overwhelmed

him. Caution to Thomas Page was like a cold to the average person. It dulled the

senses for a brief period, until your body fought back and healed itself. "Ok, you

convinced me." He had played his doubt card, and it was discarded from the deck.



36

"I mean- if you look at it from a different angle, this could be fun. It could be an

adventure."

"Well, I'm glad you're back to normal." Masha continued, leading them

forward. "Even if it's more than slightly absurd."

"Fun, fun, fun. I like that word. I'd like to chew on it for awhile." Page'sstomach rumbled. "And now I'm hungry all-of-a-sudden."

Masha halted, throwing an arm into his chest. "Look," she whispered.

"Ehhh." Thomas squinted, peering out over a broad valley that sloped down

before them. "And what would I be looking at?"

"Look- right there. Are you blind?"

"Well- blind, no. Or I couldn't be looking." Thomas cupped his eyes. And at

the far ridge of a valley that extended from one side of a mountain down the

receding slope, there was a peculiar outcropping of trees, they stood out from therest. "So? It's just trees. Trees, trees, and more trees." And as he spoke, the forest

shivered. "What was that?"

"Told you." The trees convulsed again. It wasn't wind, it wasn't an earthquake.

The forest stood. Slowly, foot by foot reaching into the air, a large swath of the

green blanket was, quite unexpectedly, moving of its own accord. And as the pair

looked even closer they could see it wasn't the trees moving. It was something

like a caterpillar, if caterpillars grew as big as jumbo jets. A forest of yellow and

purple fungi was blotted around the creature's skin. Along the back and sides of

the towering grub, rows of bone protruded. As the creature moved across the hill,

it inserted each skeleton outcropping into the mountain, stabbing them through

gaps in the rock. A storm of debris tumbled down as the jumbo bug wormed itself

over the hill and out of sight.

Thomas gaped, his eyes went wide. "I never saw that on the nature channel.

Where are we?"

"I don't know... But wherever we are, we have to find Nayana as soon as

possible. Before it's too late."

"Ok. I'm all for adventure right. I mean, now that I think about it, this is what

I've been waiting for all my life. But did you ever stop and think that maybe thisis too much for the both of us? And what are we gonna do about that man who

took her? And that ugly bird?"

"We don't have to worry about that. We just have to find her and wait."

"Wait? Well aren't we gonna rescue her?"



37

"No. We'll find her, keep an eye on the situation. My uncle's coming. He'll take

care of the rest."

"Oh- great," Thomas opined, "so where is this amazing uncle then? I don't see

him. Is he hiding behind a bush?"

"It's ok Thomas. He'll come for us, he'll find us, ok? That's what he does." ButMasha couldn't be certain, not a hundred percent. Maybe Vanya never found the

tunnel. Maybe the note hadn't been delivered. Or even worse, what if the door of

shimmering light they had passed through was closed by the time he got there?

There was no way to know for sure.

Just then a commotion stirred down the path. A series of scrapes and knocks

rattled the silence, echoing across the woods. "Look." They made out a figure,

moving in their direction. The stranger leaned against the slope, grabbing at

shrubs to keep from falling. He climbed awkwardly forward, muttering. "I told

them not to touch it, but they didn't listen. They had to go and touch it, and whodo they blame? Windspring. Me. Poor Windspring gets all the blame but none of

the credit. Do they have any idea how much that prize was worth? How much I

risked to get it? Doesn't anyone ever pay attention?" This figure, tall with skin

wrapped neatly around his bones quickly approached. "Nobody ever listens."

Thomas thought to hide. But instead he slipped and tumbled downhill, sending

rocks cascading. Masha tried to keep up. And before the pair could find a hole to

hide in or a hollow stump, this mutterer stood directly there. Right there, you

could almost touch him. He blinked twice, muscles tensed. Stark and unusual

symbols were scrawled along his body, crawling over his back. His skin was acanvas, a series of tattoos neatly etched over the surface.

"I didn't do it." The stranger spoke, hesitantly.

"Do what?" Thomas asked.

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't do, whatever you're after me for. And whatever it

is, whatever trouble you've got? I'm sure I have a perfectly airtight alibi, just give

me a chance to think. Wait, wait, I know. You're- Saturday? Well- this is

preposterous. How- You think? Because on Saturday I was with a beautiful lake

spirit, she can vouch for my whereabouts. Of course she'll be on vacation for the

next few weeks but you can find her, there, about five miles through the forest."The stranger pointed, before throwing a quick glance at the sun. "Oh, look at the

time--" And he spun as if to escape.

"Wait!" Masha insisted. The man made it a few steps. "We're not after you. We

don't even know who you are."



38

"Hah!" The stranger halted. His eyes lit up. "There are few I have ever

encountered who were not clever enough to chase me for something." The

traveler turned back, his interest began to blossom. He tried to decipher the riddle

of two young travelers alone in the woods. "You're not from the fortress, are

you?""Fortress? No. We're not from anywhere."

"Oh, you're ghosts." The marked man shivered, clearly spooked. "Please don't

haunt me phantoms-without-form-returned-from-the-underworld! I'm a light

sleeper and I need my rest. Without it I get bleary eyed and often find myself

stumbling, or in worst case scenarios I speak romantically to rocks." Again he

tried to escape.

"We're not ghosts." Masha assured him. "We don't even look like ghosts. How

could you think--"

The mutterer held a finger up. "Don't hold it against me if you've gone andsolidified sometime after your ghost making process. That's exactly what cheese

does if it's improperly handled."

"We're not ghosts or spirits, or cheese." Thomas added. "We're from... The

other side. We went through this- tunnel. There was a door. Do you know where

that is? It's like here, but it's different. And- there's no giant caterpillars."

"Oh, visitors." The stranger's tone shifted from masked suspicion to rising

interest. "Well hello visitors from a strange and far off land. I bid you welcome to

the eastern forests, the fraying edge of the world. Or what's left of it. There's not

much hope on this side of the mountains. Not anymore. Nothing but death andsmoldering just out of sight. While Daughter Shadow's protection covers the

slopes, out here? Only remnants remain. Brigands, outlaws, and fools who refuse

to listen, they will not believe what their heart fears most. The word of terror

marches west: Asura."

He continued. "Within the month, these forests will be covered in ash. Just

listen. The air is heavy with the fear of the trees. Where will they run or hide?

They are trapped. These green woods will be scorched in no time at all, I assure

you. So take it in while you still can. Oh- with all that doomsaying I almost forgot

myself there. I am Samuel. Samuel Windspring." He spoke his name with a thrill,rolling the spring at the end, drawing it out. "My calling is master thief, or thief in

training, or thief-for-hire. Depending on who you'd ask. And as much as it is

pleasant to greet you, I must be off. You see, at this moment there is a fairly

sizable bounty on my head." Again, he tried to escape.



39

"Can we go with you?" It seemed slightly dubious to follow a hunted man, but

this was their first and only contact in this new world. They needed a guide, not to

mention Page's stomach was rumbling. "We could use some help."

"No, can't help. Must go. The word 'immediately' comes to mind."

Masha added. "Is there a government here? Police? Our friend's beenkidnapped. This- man took her, he had this horrible crow--"

"Did you say 'crow?'" Windspring's attention was sparked. "This so-called

kidnapper, and of course I must be careful not to judge before all the facts are in.

What did he look like?"

"Tall, dark cloak. Black horses? A whip."

"Pity me!" Windspring felt ill. His hand clutched his chest. "Oh that- Now that

would be Gyrgan. A most horrible creature. And which way was he headed if I

might ask, not to suppose that it would matter as I could not save the victim nor

steal him away, but whatever direction it is seems to be spoiled proper, old milk

and best to be avoided."

"East. That way." She pointed.

Windspring checked his directions, "He's taking your friend prisoner then. Yes,

that's what. The armies of death and poison lie east. Yama's troops attack from the

north. Rahendra Taal's forces target the middle. And the south? Ancient and

forgotten creatures have risen from the sea, disturbed by the tides of war. Some

say even a Deva awoke. I wouldn't go there, no. You might admire the sandy

beaches, but before long you'd most likely be eaten. Quite uncomfortable, unless

you enjoy that sort of thing. Being food for fish instead of snacking on them.

Although I must admit, if it comes to that I certainly hope I'm tasty."

"But- What is it? Who is this Gyrgan?"

"He is a black shaman. Strong magic. Stronger than anything. He sold his soul

they say, for power. And now he's all twisted inside, a rag strung out after a hard

day's cleaning. That crow that follows him everywhere is called Malice. Hateful

bird. Spies on everyone."

"Isn't there anyone here who can help us? There has to be someone in charge."

"No one near by." Windspring insisted. "Now good luck!""Wait-" Thomas didn't like the idea of wandering through those endless forests

alone. "Can't you take us to the nearest city at least?"

"Of course." Windspring beamed. "Which means, not at all. And why should I?

What reason do I have to help two strangers, who for all I know are probably



40

spies? Possibly even demons. Now good-bye." Samuel made his way off.

Masha considered a way to keep him. Her mind raced. They couldn't make it

alone. They needed a guide. And then the muse whispered into her ear.

"Treasure." Masha spoke, her words as clear as morning dew.

Windspring halted, toes crunching on fallen leaves in the grass. "Did you say-treasure?"

"Yeah," Thomas got the idea, "you're a thief, right? So- you must like

treasure?"

Samuel rubbed his hands together, humming. "Treasure to a thief is like wind

to a bird. Treasure is like bread to a baker. It is the water to my waterfall."

"Whatever that means." Thomas mumbled before Masha gave him an elbow.

"Ow!"

"Listen Windspring," Masha offered, "We're from the other side, and if youhelp us find our friend? We'll bring something back. Something from our home.

And you would be the only thief in this entire world that would have it."

"You would be famous." Thomas added. "The most famous thief ever."

"Hmmm..." Samuel scratched his chin. "Exclusive rights?"

"Exclusive." Masha nodded. She wasn't sure what she would bring him

exactly, but just about anything from their world would be unique to a man in this

one.

"Very well." Samuel's heart fluttered. He stuck out a hand. "For glimpses of

new discoveries and sights unseen, we will travel together.""Yes, thank you." Masha's arm was quite quickly jostled at his enthusiasm.

"And you will bring me a treasure, unlike anything I could hope to find here?"

"Absolutely." Thomas grinned. "That is, as soon as we rescue our friend."

"This is good, yes very good. This should do much for my reputation. Not

many thieves have such an opportunity as to steal from another world entirely."

Windspring checked the path, encouraging them. "Come now, we have a long

ourney ahead of us." And Samuel proceeded quickly forward.

"Wait- where are we going?""Our best chance to find your friend is to meet with Irkalla, queen of storms,

guardian of the east. Her gift is control over the weather, so we will soon know

her mood. If the sun smiles when we arrive, we should be able to visit her without

worry. But if a storm waits on the horizon?" Samuel hesitated. "Well... We might



41

have to run."

They hiked for hours before Thomas stopped, his calves in pain. "Is there

magic everywhere where?"

Samuel blinked. "Everything is magic. Even trees are magic."

"Are not."

"They are more magic than you will ever be, strange boy." Windspring

frowned.

"How so? They're just- trees."

"Well-" Windspring twisted his torso around, keeping one squint eye locked on

Page as if it was a loaded gun. "Can you grow taller if you stand in the sunlight

and pour water out of a teapot over your head?" Windspring poked his finger

forward. "Can you do that? Huh?""Um- no. No that's ridiculous."

"Hah! That's not very magic of you, now is it?" Windspring folded his arms as

if to prove some debatable point before quickly insisting, "We must keep moving.

There are bandits in the area."

"Like you?" Masha asked, although she hadn't meant to hurt his feelings.

"What?" Windspring could scarcely believe it. "Thieves are nothing like

bandits. Bandits are common thugs." Samuel turned and spit. "The only thing

they know how to do is threaten people who are weaker than they are. No, a

thief? A thief is an artisan. His trained fingers unlock doors that could never beopened by the hands of the uninitiated. A thief is a traveler, an adventurer. And a

thief never uses weapons to steal from others. There is a saying. If you can't take

it without them knowing, abandon the attempt."

"Masha's uncle is a thief." Thomas offered.

"Was." She objected. "He doesn't do that anymore."

"A fellow practitioner?" Samuel replied. "I hope that I will have a chance to

meet him then. Perhaps we can compare techniques and strategies."

"He's coming for us." Masha replied, "He'll be here soon.""Very well then. I hope he finds you in good health. But as all journeys require

motion as well as inclination in their recipe, we must keep on." But before

Windspring could return them to the path, and before Thomas could ask the latest

question buzzing in his mind, the bushes split open.



42

"Don't move!" A sharp order. From the wilderness emerged three men, each

with a bow aimed squarely at the travelers' chests. One arrow per heart.

"Bandits?" Masha whispered.

"No, forest clowns." Windspring replied in an unnecessarily sarcastic tone. "Of

course they're bandits. But be calm the both of you. I think I have a way out of this."

"What do you want?" Thomas could see their hands, thumbing the bow strings

taut.

"We want." Their captain, a tall and lean figure with the gait of a man who had

plundered many, stepped out from the shadows. "We want whatever gold, or

valuable possessions you have. Do not try to hide anything. Do not fight, do not

run. Or we will be forced to be more than slightly unreasonable."

"But-" Masha said, "We don't have anything. We just got here and--"

"You must have something." The captain's hand was fixed squarely on the hilt

of his sword, itching for an excuse to pull it. "Empty your pockets!"

"Um, ok I guess." Thomas reached into his pocket. He found a toy car, a

pocket knife, and a gray rock. "Is this what you want?"

"Why do you have a rock?" Masha wondered aloud.

"Uh- Pet rock? Obviously."

"And you?" The captain's words were sharp. "I can see that you are a thief."

"Most assuredly." Samuel agreed. "And proud of it."

"Then you must have some treasure you've stolen? If it is rare or ancient or

valuable, or any of the above, or all of the forementioned then give it to us now."

The captain's eyes were locked on Windspring, boring in.

"Yes." Windspring let out a sigh. "I have but one token, assuredly. But it was

meant to be a gift."

"A gift? Hand it over immediately or suffer the consequences."

"Ah well. If you insist." Samuel reached from his pocket, revealing a golden

ring. Its edges curled like smelted sunbeams, shimmering in the light. "You

wanted treasure? Well this- this is a magic ring most splendid. It is the only oneof its kind in the entire world."

The captain swallowed, eyeing the token with hunger. "And what- magic does

this ring possess?"

"An old and ancient blessing, given by the sun herself. If you wear this ring,



43

you will become completely invisible. Very valuable. Can you imagine the

possibilities? Wear this, and no enemy will ever threaten you again. With this

ring, you could conquer any kingdom. Any army. Escape from the authorities?"

"Excellent." The captain replied, his blood pulsing at the idea. "I will take this

ring, and if it functions properly, I may even spare your lives." The bandit's handlifted from his blade. He started marching towards his prize.

"Windspring." Masha eyed the thief and whispered. "Does it really make you

invisible?"

"Of course not! If it did, don't you think I'd be wearing it?"

And the captain of the bandits held his hand out, palm flat. "Give it to me.

Hand it over and I will test this strange magic. But if you're lying? Then my

archers will let their arrows fly. And you will be forgotten by all but the trees of

the forest."

"Oh, very well then. But it's a shame to part with something so rare."

Windspring held the ring out. He offered it to the captain, while shooting a

sideways glance at the ground. He stepped forward. He held out the ring. "Here,

here it is. Of course, our lives are more precious than gold, magic or not." And he

tripped. Windspring's arm flung out, the ring went flying. "Oh my!"

"Find it!" The captain screamed. "Hurry!" His forehead was flush with desire

for this valuable thing. The archers quickly emerged from the forest and started

looking. But it only took the captain a mere moment before he saw a gleam on the

carpet of leaves. "Ah hah!" He stood sharp. Proudly he set the ring on his finger

and prepared for the glory of his newfound ability not-to-be-seen. His eyes shut.But when they opened again and he stared at his fingers, he could see them just as

before. He turned to the archers. "Am I- am I invisible?" And the archers

shrugged. He was clearly not. The captain turned quickly to where Windspring

and the others had been waiting. But it was they who had vanished. Without a

magic ring I might add.

"After them!" The captain screamed. And the chase was on.

As they raced through the forest, Samuel threw a comment back. "A ring that

turns you invisible? Hah! You'd be amazed at how many times that trick has

worked."

They sprinted forward, cutting themselves on trees and branches, nearly

tripping on rocks. They could hear the yells and shouts as the bandits charged

behind them.

"Are we-" Thomas was short of breath. "Are we gonna make it?"



44

"Well of course we are. I am a thief. Escapes are my specialty. What do you

take me for, a rank amateur?" And at that exact moment, Windspring turned,

nearly tumbling over the side of a cliff that towered down hundreds of feet. He

twirled his arms to keep his balance, and the others stopped, almost falling over to

the sharp rocks. A torrent of water poured down across the far edge, to the mistsbelow.

"Escapes are your specialty?" Thomas felt dizzy at the sudden precipice.

"Well- yes, but--"

"You call this an escape?"

"It's a work in progress." Windspring was suddenly nervous, he didn't like the

idea of being captured. Or impaled for that matter. "We could jump."

Thomas stared down. "Unless you have a magic ring that lets you fly, I don't

think that's gonna work. We'd be smashed to pieces!"

"If you have a better idea," Windspring snapped, "I'd like to hear it."

But it was too late. The dulcet tones of hope were overwhelmed. Quickly, a

marching band called reality-of-the-situation came blaring in. The bandits

emerged, pride wounded. The captain stalked them, moving forward, gloating at

the sight of their unfortunate path. "Hah!" He stood above them, "So now we see

the truth of the situation. Now we find who the fools really are."

"Fools?" Windspring replied, "What are you talking about, fools? This was all

part of my plan. You trapping us here."

"Plan? Was this your plan? To run towards a cliff? An interesting idea." Thecaptain grinned. "Then I suppose you have nothing to worry about. And in a

moment or two it is likely that we will be utterly vanquished as you have such an

amazing strategy." The bandit captain drew his blade and shouted. "Archers!"

"You sure you don't wanna jump?" Samuel asked.

"Hmm. How about 'No?'"

"Hmm. How about 'Might be less painless?'"

"Ugh. It can't end like this." Masha felt the cold fear creeping up from her toes.

The archers pulled the cords, so tight that you could hear the wood stretching.

Masha shut her eyes, praying. Hoping with all hope that Vanya would come. That

he would leap from the shadows and save them. But Vanya of Khabarovsk didn't

materialize. Instead, a deep roar shook the woods. A flock of red and white birds

screamed up from their branches, disturbed by something in the far-off.

Something terrible.



45

"What's that?" Thomas had fears stacked on fears now. The arrows, the cliff,

and the roars.

The captain sneered, "What is this? Another one of your tricks? Well I've had

enough of your, your..." He stumbled over his thoughts.

"Shenanigans?" Thomas offered."Thank you, yes. That's just the word I was looking for. Archers, ready!" The

archers locked on their targets with trained eyes, sharp as hawks.

The forest split. It collapsed. The tops of the far off trees began to tumble, one

at a time, then in pairs. It was if they were being consumed, tossed aside,

toothpicks carelessly discarded. The earth trembled. An earthquake charged. And

it was getting closer.

The archers hesitated, Masha and Thomas listened. Windspring grabbed their

hands. "I think... I think the world is ending." The nearest trees exploded. Scraps

of bark went flying. Roots uplifted.

A beast of bristling fur and teeth like daggers stormed from darkness, stomping

over the bandit captain, tackling him before stopping hard. Urkut, spawn of

Sindari ran on all fours, tumbling forward. Its back was adorned with a path of

white spines, tinged purple with poison. The bowmen fired. Urkut twisted,

turned. It smashed its thick head into two of the archers, sending them flying. The

last man considered his prospects and quickly found them less than ideal,

escaping into the forest. It was then that Urkut turned its attention to the trio

trapped at the ledge. The beast heaved in loud huffing grunts, foaming at the

mouth.

"Wait." Windspring held a hand up. "Strange thing, most terrible. We are not a

threat to you. We are simply travelers. And besides." Windspring stepped back,

placing Masha and Thomas between him and the creature. "You wouldn't hurt

these- children?"

But Urkut was inconsolable, a barricade breaker, driven by its desire for

broken bones. It stared hard at the trio. It dug its heel in the ground, preparing for

a mad rush. But before it could strike, a high pitched whistle pierced the gnawing

sounds. Immediately, Urkut whipped its head around, back towards the forest.

A rock flew from the sky. It hit Urkut full force near the ear, the monster

twisted in pain and screamed.

The sound of footsteps arrived on the wind. Running feet echoed on the forest

path, announcing the presence of a stranger. A young man sprinted, his feet

seemed to glide over the grass as he dashed past Urkut and found himself in front



46

of the trio. "Don't worry. It's under control."

"Don't worry?" Masha couldn't believe it. "You do realize we're standing on

the edge of a cliff?"

"Oh are we?" It was only then that the stranger looked back and saw the

sudden drop. "Oh. Well actually, this could help." He saw Masha standing there.She caught his eye and he hesitated, nearly forgetting the fury just behind him.

"Wow. You're beautiful." Masha felt a sensation of both admiration for the young

man, and also confusion that he was more interested in her than in the present

danger. "I'm Ronen. Ronen Lysander Lash." And Ronen turned back. "Whatever

you do don't sneeze."

"Why not?" Windspring felt an itch, creeping on his nose.

"Because it absolutely hates sneezes." Ronen kept watch, Urkut glared. It was a

moment of extreme tension, a steel wire about to snap.

"Aaah." The itch crawled up.

"Aa-aah." Up, into Windspring's skull. All eyes were on him, hoping, praying.

" Aaa-chooo!" Windspring shrugged. "Sorry."

Urkut yelled with spittle, thrusting its jaw open, white fangs on full display.

The barbs on its back stood on end, tipped with venom. The beast charged

forward, thunder fast.

"Everyone, jump when I say jump." Ronen took Masha's hand. Urkut dashed

forward. "Wait for it." Its hooves roared like canon fire.

"Wait for it." Its teeth gnashed like boulders collapsing."Now!" Ronen pulled Masha out of the creature's path. Windspring and

Thomas dashed to the other side.

Urkut leaped. But its sense of pressing rage had overwhelmed its awareness of

sudden gravity. It flew forward, past the travelers, momentum taking it over the

edge. Urkut cried out at its folly, grunts descending down. Its rage fell deep into

the mists.

Ronen turned back from the edge. "Hah! Now that'll teach him."

Thomas looked over. "Is it- is it dead?"

"Dead? Hardly." Ronen smiled. "It would take more than a fall to stop that

thing. Nah, it's just angry. And it'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

"Are you a hunter?" Masha asked, and considering the way Ronen moved

without effort it seemed a logical guess.



"Something like that." Ronen leaped down from the rock. "Actually, I'm a

prince."

Date post:	10-Apr-2018
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Stormwinter Book 1 First 3 Chapters

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