Harbiya returned to the camp that night. He was tired, and the news that the convoy continued on its path only soured his mood.

He hadn’t found a whiff of anything in his search of the north valley. He felt his stomach curdle.

Of all the areas he had the least knowledge of, it was Edge. It seemed, well, convenient that the convoy was headed in the same direction of the one place in Gwyan he didn’t control.

He washed his face in the nearby stream and returned to the camp where he was handed a plate loaded with meat and bread and a cup of hot cider. He ate hungrily and was reminded of his days as a thief on the streets. Back then, he’d be ecstatic to be eating a meal like this. Of course, back then, he’d never been able to dream he’d become a Gwyanian lord and leader of the mythical Kamwa.

He smiled as he thought of the friends he’d had back then, but his smile faded as he remembered how each had perished. One had died of starvation. The gifts from the king only extended as far as those who could afford to give an offering at all. Another had been put to death for thievery. Yet, the king and the lords used the Kamwa to steal what little the taxes left. Another had gained true wealth through his tenacity and hard work. He’d angered a powerful mayor, and a Kamwa had stolen and destroyed all he had worked for in a single night not long after. That friend had taken his own life rather than go back to the alleys and streets.

Harbiya stared into the fire, watching its dancing flames. He savored each bite of his food and swished the cider around in his mouth before swallowing. He set the crusts to the side of his plate. When he was done eating the meat and the rest of the bread, he used the crusts to sop up the juices.

What about himself? Fate and luck had been his friends after the others had died.

A master Kamwa had taken a liking to him and trained him in their secret arts. After seeing Harbiya’s promise, he introduced him to his master, a lord. Lord Omar had taken a liking to him as well and adopted him, much to the consternation of the nobles.

The nobles hated him, and Omar and Harbiya hated them. That much his adoptive parent had taught him: hate. Hate of the nobility. Omar had showed him every dark part of their lives without holding back. So, when Omar had died, it didn’t surprise Harbiya when they had tried to kill him as well. He had fled and journeyed the world. He went as far as Telam, traveled Ara-Era before the war, and even stole a dragon for himself.

Harbiya tensed at that memory. He’d raised that dragon like a dear friend. Like all his other friends, it had been killed. He used the war between Gwyan and Ara-Era to obtain power and merit as a Kamwa scout. He drew other Kamwa to him and in the chaos of the Ara-Eran invasion, he assumed his right to lordship once again.

Harbiya accepted a cup of hot tea and nursed it between his cold hands.

He’d made friends among the Kamwa then too. Two of the most skilled went on a mission on the king’s command. After returning from Ara-Era, they were killed. Soon after, a final push brought Ara-Era to its knees. The king had secret talks with Ara-Eran leadership, then withdrew his armies to Gwyan without another word. For years Harbiya sought the reason for his friends’ deaths. His only clue came in a vague answer: the King’s Desire.

He took a sip. His friends had found something. They’d been killed for it by the king—the nobles and the king. So much suffering was due to them.

He looked across the fire at Adilah and Kassim and watched them. They kept quiet when he was around. He didn’t mind. He knew they hated him. Well, he hated them too. They had left the Kamwa, after all, turned their backs on him when he had only looked out for their prosperity. The shrine they’d started was pitiful, but somehow that little shrine had burst forth into a temple. Others had fled the Kamwa and found asylum there.

His eyes narrowed. It was like an insurrection.

Suddenly, he realized something was bothering him. It wasn’t like the feeling of something watching him, though. He glanced casually around the camp, but it wasn’t there. He brought his eyes back to the couple, and he realized it was from them. He’d been staring at them but not paying close attention. Now that he did, he could tell there was a slight shift in them. It wasn’t in actions or speech but an indescribable feeling emanating from them, like when meeting a person for the first time and knowing you’ll like or trust them.

They were hiding something from him. Something they hadn’t known before. Harbiya stood.

“Tie them up.”

The Kamwa immediately acted, tying the hands and feet of Adilah and Kassim. The two watched Harbiya warily.

It was all too perfect and…discreet. Edge had sprung up almost overnight. The higher traffic to the area, especially by the nobles, demanded a better road, and one had been built all the way from the capital to Edge. The convoy was certainly going slowly, but the trip would have almost been impossible before without a stone-paved road.

No, it was just all too perfect. The king wasn’t a fool. The best place to hide something was where no one wanted to steal it. Edge, under the radical leadership of Adilah and Kassim, made a city not filled with stories and fear of Kamwa but of the overabundant generosity of the king.

Harbiya looked at the two, then pointed at Adilah.

“Put her on a horse. Three of you come with me.”

Kassim’s eyes widened. “What? What are you doing? Where are you taking her?”

Harbiya smiled. “Oh, you’re such a worrywart. You’ll see her alive when you next meet. I simply thought she was missing her daughter back in Edge.” The edges of his eyes crinkled. “I just can’t stand a woman in such distress.”

Kassim’s face paled. “Harbiya!”

But he turned away.

“Harbiya! How can we help you if you don’t trust us! We’ve been telling the truth this whole time! The King’s Desire isn’t something we can sense! Harbiya!”

Harbiya threw on his cloak and saddled his horse. He pulled himself into the saddle and looked back at Kassim.

“I’m just going ahead for a special scouting mission.” He flashed a smile. “I figure I have two of you, so why waste that? We’ll scout ahead. You stay behind and send word if you decide you want to see anything with that fabled Third Eye of yours. Deal?”

Kassim looked into his wife’s eyes. “Adilah, I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you too.”

Harbiya rolled his eyes. He spurred his horse and disappeared with Adilah in tow.

***

That same night, Hyrestl and Jak hopped down from the cave entrance to the questioning stares of the villagers.

When Jak had first arrived at the cave, he’d quickly assumed command over the men after showing them his captain’s crest. He’d ordered them to exit the cave and allow his group to resume the search.

He didn’t answer their questions about how he’d found out about them and the Eran fugitive. He made it very obvious by his bearing and words that it was more than they needed to know.

Now, as he and the rest of the tired Edge guardsmen filed out of the cave, they gave him searching looks, wondering how he hadn’t fared any better. Jak addressed them.

“You may dismiss yourselves and return back home. Enjoy the festival, and don’t worry yourselves over this. The fugitive has escaped through an exit in the caves.”

“An exit?” one man said. “There is no exit. We know that better than anyone else. Don’t we?” The others around him nodded. Jak’s solid form approached the man, which riveted their attention on him.

“Have you covered every extent of that cave?”

The man worked his jaw. “No, sir.”

“Then, you needn’t question me. Our efforts were only possible because of the scope of your knowledge and the rope and string you laid out. We’ll pick up tracking him from here.” Jak moved to pass the man, then stopped.

“How did you get so much rope and string?”

“We fish on the lake. We scrounged around, we had some from searching for children in the cave before, we took apart some old nets, y’know, just got what we could. We won’t be able to use the nets after the lake freezes over, anyway.”

Jak nodded. “I’ll try to see to it your efforts are rewarded.” He and the other guardsmen moved to leave, but one of the villagers stepped forward.

“I have a question—one more, sir.”

Jak thought he recognized him, but it didn’t quite sit well with him.

“Do you have a brother in Edge?”

“Yes.” Jak turned and walked away. Hyrestl followed. He was glad his own presence wasn’t being questioned. He was fairly well-known up and down the valley. Then again, they might have a sneaking suspicion the Eran was linked to him, since Rylen’s existence was widely known too. One of the villagers gave him a searching look, and he turned his face away. He didn’t know the man, but then again, that didn’t mean the fellow hadn’t seen him while he sleepwalked, either. He increased his pace to match Jak’s.

Hyrestl wasn’t used to Jak’s commanding demeanor, but rather his softer, family side. His approach was correct, though. It would be better at this stage of the game to leave questions and a story than try to appease the villagers. They didn’t have the time, anyway. Rylen would have a much bigger head start on them once he got above ground.

Hyrestl had demanded their party be silent when he heard the sounds of someone scrabbling on rock. After searching ahead for another half hour, they were able to find the hole in the ceiling.

He had recognized the lantern that had been left behind. It was the traveling lantern he’d bought for Rylen years ago.

Hyrestl mounted his horse with the others to pick up the trail once again.

***

The last dregs of the day’s sunlight were fading as Rylen slipped into the lake village.

He had passed by houses where he heard talking, laughing, or the occasional cry of a baby. Unlike Edge, this village didn’t put up lanterns at street corners. Light spilling from windows onto the street were the only illumination.

He did his best to walk quietly. No one else was outdoors, not with most of the men hunting down the Eran dog. Right now Rylen didn’t need a housewife’s curiosity to give him away.

He made his way to the center of the village again and found the bakery he’d been in last time. The smell of freshly baked bread made his mouth water, and he swallowed. He glanced around, making sure there weren’t any people lurking nearby. He reached for the stone in his money pouch and paused as a thought struck him.

Were the stories about Kamwa true? Perhaps the stone he’d found were the reason for the stories. The object might turn him into one of the fabled shadow thieves of old. He shook his head but smiled at his own imagination. It wouldn’t be so bad becoming a local legend.

He pulled his cloak more snugly over his shoulders as a chill night wind swirled around him. He clasped the stone in his hand, then put his other on the door handle.

He opened the door quickly, measured the distance and direction between himself and the shelves of bread, then pinched the stone between two of his fingers and held it out in front of him. The whole room was suddenly steeped in shadow, its deepest part focused in the area around the stone.

He stepped forward quickly, the warm breath of the fireplace warming his nose and fingers. Something about the stone drew his eye toward it as he held it in front of him.

A woman’s blood-curdling scream made him jump, and he looked in that direction even as he grabbed a loaf of bread. He could only make out the very dim outline of a person and the flames of a fire. He could barely see directly near himself, but further away it was like a heavy, black veil was pulled in front of his eyes. He turned and ran. Another scream followed his exit.

Perhaps I didn’t think that through well enough, he thought as he ran down the street. He kept the stone held out in front of him as he tried his best not to lose his grasp on the loaf of bread.

Doors opened behind and in front of him, and lanterns were lit. His footsteps sounded incredibly loud as he ran.

A woman poked her head out of her door, and upon seeing him, instantly recoiled, screaming. A man shouted in alarm behind him. Dogs barked and howled, adding to the noise.

He didn’t stop running. He looked over his shoulder but couldn’t really tell whether he was being chased. He forced himself to keep going until the end of the village, where he slowed to a jog.

He grimaced as pains that had receded in the last couple of days resurfaced.

The loaf felt warm where it pressed against him, and he was reminded of his hunger.

He moved off the trail into the shadows of the forest. He stepped forward carefully. The last bit of light in the sky was quickly fading, and he still held the stone in front of him. It was like trying to make his way through the darkest part of night.

He could still hear a commotion in the village. He hoped they didn’t come after him. Then again, from their reactions, it seemed like they thought he was a demon.

Nevertheless, he made sure he was far from the road before tucking the stone away. He’d had difficulty keeping his eyes off it. It was like staring into the clear depths of the lake he’d swam in. If he sank into it, he felt he’d be lost in it forever.

The moment he tucked it away, that feeling disappeared.

His stomach gurgled, and he pulled the loaf out from under his arm and unwrapped the cloth. He almost drooled as the delicious smell wafted up from it. He pulled off a piece and chewed. He closed his eyes and savored the taste.

He pulled off another piece, then another, and didn’t stop until he’d eaten most of the loaf. Even then, he felt like he could finish the rest of it. He forced himself to wrap the remainder and put it in his pack. He pulled out his waterskin and took deep gulps from it before stoppering it.

A deep chill ran through his body, so he pulled his cloak closer again. He shivered, then a tickling warmth that was somehow familiar spread from his stomach outward.

His eyelids became heavy, and he slumped over into a deep sleep.