Brilliant golds illuminated the Lockhorn mountains as the sun lowered on the horizon, just behind a cloud bank. On the other side, the moon was almost full and the top peered over distant jagged peaks. Salamin wiped the sweat out of his eyes as they stumbled and ran for the finish.

  As soon as the sun disappeared, it would be too late.

  Lane took the lead, and Salamin followed in her footsteps along the rocks. Finally, they saw the other initiates in the distance, all huddled together beside three robed mages.

  His legs burned from the day’s activity, and he struggled to catch his breath as they both ran for all they were worth.

  They reached the group just as the sun’s light finally disappeared and the deep purples and ambers of the sunset burst over the skyline.

  Elian’s eyes narrowed when he saw them.

  “Well done, initiates,” Paxton said, his gaze resting on Lane and Salamin. “Initiate Lane and Salamin, do you have your flags?” A bushy brow raised as he regarded them.

  “They weren’t able to make it to the top,” Elian said loudly, eyes narrowed. “And they didn’t follow orders.”

  “Working as a group was part of the challenge,” Paxton said with a nod.

  “We have our flags,” Lane said, and held hers up, and narrowed her eyes at Ellian.

  Paxton nodded, regarding the initiates. “If you have the flags, you have achieved the challenge. However, there are consequences for not having followed all the rules.”

  Salamin’s legs did not want to hold him up any longer. He stood, back straight waiting for what came next.

  “If you want to survive the Catacombs, you will need to follow your leaders command. It is a lesson best learned now. You may remain as initiates and Elian will choose your consequences.”

  Lane’s eyes grew feral, but she bit her tongue. They were still in this, and there would be time to deal with Elian later.

  The mages collected the flags. Caden limped over and nodded to Salamin. “Elian is going to try and get you kicked out,” he whispered. “Be ready.”

  A dinner awaited at the Keep, and Salamin’s stomach grumbled at the smell of it.

  Three mages blocked Salamin’s entrance to the dining hall. “You aren’t allowed in there,” Mage Igar said. “By Elian’s orders.” He inclined his head towards the table, where Elian took a bite of meat, and laughed at something Staya said.

  Salamin nodded. He caught Elian’s eye and received a smug smile.

  “I’ll gladly go without food, if I never have to see his face again,” Lane said from behind.

  Igar nodded solemnly. “It’s a simple thing to apologize,” he said. His voice lowered. “If I were the both of you, I’d get out while you can.” He took their measure and motioned to another mage. “Take them back to the chambers,” he said.

  With that, Salamin was led to a chamber. He glimpsed Lane before the door closed, locking him inside.

  Once the door closed, Salamin slumped to the stone floor. The oil lamp flickered and would soon cast him into the darkness. Tomorrow he’d have to find a way of dealing with Elian. The pettiness could not get in the way of his goals.

  The Order was his destination. There he’d find Haldar. Salamin clutched his burned right hand. Vengeance and justice were his lifeblood now. Haldar would never see it coming.

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  The effects of the hike and battles were not unwelcome. Already he was gaining muscle, and able to go for longer without food. This had not been the case when he’d been cast into the young boy’s body.

  Though exhausted, Salamin was growing physically and mentally stronger. Even the spell in the chamber was not as heavy on his mind. He was becoming adept at defeating the haunting memories, like swatting tiny wasps. Effortless.

  A faint knock came on the door, and Salamin’s eyes jerked open. His stomach muscles ached as he sat up. There was a faint scratch, and the door cracked open.

  The light from the hall torches was a welcome sight.

  In the doorway, Elian held up a small cloth bag. “Can I come in?”

  Salamin drew himself up and leaned his back against the wall. “What do you want?”

  “I come with a peace offering.” Elian set the bag down on the stone floor and stepped back. He glanced over his shoulder. “Please, can we talk?”

  “No one is stopping you.”

  Elian raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry.” He drew in a breath. “We need to cast our differences that aside. In a few days, we’re going to go into the Catacombs and face the first gate.”

  Salamin appraised him silently. “The first gate shouldn’t be hard to enter.” It hadn’t in the past.

  Elian shook his head. “There are three gates . There’s a reason they are being hard on us. Only a few survive the first gate.”

  This was new. The Order had changed the entrance price.

  Elian crossed his arms and gazed down at the floor. “Only a sacrifice opens it.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We all know this.”

  Salamin followed Elian’s gaze to the corridor. A chill fell over him.

  “Caden is the weakest link,” Elian continued. “You know it, and I know it. He is not of the noble class, and his father a lowly blacksmith. But I’ve seen what you can do, killing that mage was impressive.”

  Salamin eyed him cautiously.

  “They are getting us ready. One of us has to die, and we all know who it has to be. I need you with me and not against me. I want you on my team.”

  Salamin gazed into Caden’s dark eyes. They were intelligent, and devoid of emotion. “No,” he said simply.

  A pulse in Elian’s neck throbbed, his face flushing as he regarded Salamin. He scooped up the bag. “I came to you in good faith. You’ll regret this Sedwick. That’s a promise.”

  His words hung in the air as the door slammed shut, and Salamin was in the darkness once again.

  ***

  Lane paced in the dark chamber. She’d laid out the exact dimensions and knew how many steps to each wall. She wanted to punch something or someone. That time would come soon enough.

  She had revealed her secret to Sal, and wondered what he had thought. The rare Devold ability of having a familiar was a forbidden act. The Order didn’t like people having abilities they themselves could not have. Her communications with her familiar were few, the moments when the veil between the worlds were lessened. As soon as she gained the power, she would be able to access it more fully.

  Ergan was his name, and with him, she felt her world expand. Here in the darkness, the memory of him soothed her. She was going to get into the Order and find her brother. Dead or alive. No, he had to be alive.

  She fingered her half-moon necklace, identical to her brother’s. He had to be alive. She wiped her eyes. He had to be.

  A gentle knock rapped on the door. When it opened, she saw her enemy standing in the doorway. It was Elian.

  “Get out,” she said, low and evenly.

  He raised his arms and lowered a sack onto the stone floor. “Peace offerings,” Elian said with a smile. “I brought you food and an apology.”

  Lane folded her arms and looked him in the eyes. He had dark, story eyes. The eyes of a warrior. She was thankful for the gaze ability passed down from her mother. A liar was easy to spot.

  She stood still, looking down at the sack, her stomach grumbling. The food would be welcome, but anything freely given came with strings attached. “What do you want?” she asked, looking away from the food.

  Elian leaned against the wall, arms folded. “Lane Reval. I’ve seen you wield your sword.” He gave her a nod of approval. “You have the strength, and the potential. I need allies like you by my side. We’ll need each other for the Catacombs.”

  Lane was silent and watched him. “And in return?”

  “Accept my apology and join my team." He shrugged. "There are obstacles we’ll need to face to open that first gate, and I want you with me. Your friend Sedwick will weigh you down. And,” he paused, “one of us has to die to enter the first gate.”

  Lane’s breath caught.

  Elian nodded gravely. “Yes, it is tragic that one of us has to die. But there is a price to pay for greatness, don’t you think?”

  Lane shook her head. There had to be another way.

  “Take my peace offering and think about it.” With that, he bowed his head and left. The door closed, and darkness fell over the chamber once again.

  Lane crawled over to the sack, feeling ravenous. The smell of spices and meat permeated the chamber. Touching the rough cloth, she hesitated. Everything has strings, she told herself, even as her stomach rebelled angrily. Grimacing, she shoved it away. It wasn’t worth the price. Tonight, she would go without food.