“Strictly speaking, the official stance in America is that ghosts do not exist. Paranormal energies can easily be attributed to ambient magic levels rather than some sort of marauding sentience. Nonetheless, schools of exorcism exist around the world, and many exorcists claim that we overlook the existence of spirits at our own peril.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

Silver woke with a start when Sori loomed over her, apparently trying to wake her up quietly. By the time she had rolled her bed sheets and stored them in the chest at the far end of the room, Sori and Cevora had already gone for the morning, returned, and left breakfast and a carefully wrapped packet of hard bread and salted fish on the floor for her. Silver finished her meal in silence, sharing with the wolf. All the while, she listened to the discussion that echoed up from the lower floor of the house.

Apparently, news had rolled in with the gray morning light. Illian would be receiving no more reports from his stealthy spy in Atlantis – a more tightly enforced quarantine had been placed on the ports when the death toll surpassed eight hundred in the ports of Atlantis alone. Tucked away in their own private niche in the forest, they had missed the worst of the news, though it seemed that even the court in Altiannia had known little of Atlantis’s impending doom until recently.

“It’s begun to strike the magic-wielders in the Port City as well now,” Illian’s heavy voice echoed up the narrow stairwell to their bedroom as Silver finished her meal and scooped up her bag. “Altiannia ordered an evacuation of all non-magic users two weeks ago, and the number of new cases declined. Then, suddenly, fifty dead in three days. I wish I could say our saving grace is that magic users seem to be showing symptoms sooner, but right now, that seems to do nothing but draw out their suffering. The healers are at their wits end.”

“Of course they are,” Sara’s higher, wheezier voice cut in, surprising Silver, “if magic is really the cause, as you suggested, all the healers in Alti will be at a loss. The best we can do is try to support the bodies of the ill long enough for them to recover, hmmm.” There was a pause, and a deeper murmur as several people spoke and their voices blended together.

“Could this be the beasts’ doing?” an unfamiliar voice asked. The room downstairs went strangely silent, and Silver froze halfway through the doorway. Elorian pushed past her.

“No,” Illian finally answered coolly. “Whatever this is, they will suffer alongside us. The beasts must sense something, because the birds, the squirrels, even the rats are gone from the ports.”

Silver followed after the wolf, pausing at the landing to listen a little longer. Illian saw her, however, and waved a halt to the conversation. “I’ll send word shortly,” he said with a curt nod towards Sara and a bearded man Silver did not recognize – he had his bow slung over one shoulder, and was dressed in the crimson vests she had come to associate with the guards not long after arriving at the outpost. One of the captains, possibly. Silver rarely saw them.

Illian joined her as they stepped out into the dawn, where the last stars of the night twinkled promisingly from the blacker cast of space visible between the trees. All around them, the shadowed buildings flickered with the strange blue fire of the watch stones, a familiar landscape that Silver found herself a little sad to leave behind.

“We will return,” the wolf rumbled.

“I’ve grown fond of this place,” Illian echoed Silver’s sentiments, unaware that the wolf had spoken. “You’ve heard no rumors of where we’re headed, Silver?”

“None,” Silver assured him.

Illian said nothing, and she glanced at him as they passed one of the watch fires. The blue light flickered eerily in his dark eyes. Just before they turned the corner that would bring the arch into view, he paused, drawing her to a stop. The wolf curled between them, protective as ever, and he smiled slightly as he searched her face. What he was looking for, she had no idea, but he seemed to find it.

“If need be, Silver, you will be our voice among the beasts. The dragon srinn warned us, and the beasts have been less forgiving of our trespass recently. Having the hatchlings should help, but I prefer to be prepared in all cases. Say whatever you must to them. There’s no need to ask for my permission.”

After a moment, Silver nodded slowly, surprised. She could see a little, now, why Illian had wanted her along no matter what.

“And where we’re headed, Silver, I want you especially to be cautious,” he added.

“Why—”

“Because there are some secrets, Silver, that no one here can learn.” His tone suggested there would be no more questions, and he gestured her around the corner towards the arch. Silver narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully, but she complied.

When the arch finally came into view, she was not overtly surprised to see Bek waiting for them, but she was surprised to find him in a larger group, watching her and Illian approach with the wolf expectantly. Nine people, she quickly counted, including Bek, and an unexpectedly large knot of dragons. Crimson and silver and green and brass. She had seen them together many times, but rarely with their human companions; the dragons had become more independent since meeting the dragon srinn.

Illian moved to stand adjacent to a strange woman with pale brown hair and deep brown eyes, thin lips pursed in a thoughtful grimace. Sori was next to her, grinning at Silver like it was Christmas morning.

“A quick round of introductions,” Illian said, gesturing not to the woman beside him, but to a blonde girl with hauntingly black eyes who was barely older than Silver. “Estir,” he stated, “former member of the Altian guard and a skilled archer. She happens to be the only ranked pyromancer I’ve met besides Silver,” he pointed at her, “a newer trainee from Atlantis. Ranks three and five, respectively.”

Silver knew where she recognized Estir from – she was one of the highest class of Holtson's trainees. Looking around, she realized there were several such people in their group. The two men who looked so similar they had to be brothers were Terald and Kit, both trained in the Halberd. Illian introduced them both as rank one. Gormin she had seen in Illian’s demonstration, not knowing he was a rank four with a lean towards telepathy. Ren was leaning against the arch, looking as if there were about a million places he would rather be than where he was standing at that moment, when Illian introduced him. He then gestured at Ami, a homely looking woman who Seijelar complained smelled of fish. She was rank three, a cook from the kitchens. Hiyein crouched next to the dragons, still looking a bit banged up from the day before. Silver did not envy him Holtson’s drills.

Finally, Illian turned to the last woman, who was still grimacing. Silver wondered if she was in some kind of pain.

“Cevora,” Illian said. Silver’s surprise must have shown in her expression, because both the stranger with Cevora’s name and Sori looked like they were having a hard time keeping their composure. Bek was shaking his head.

“He told them you would be fooled,” Seijelar hissed from the knot of dragons, “the other humans were less sure. There is a magic that hides her figure. You must be more observant.”

Scolded by her dragon, Silver pouted as they fell into step not behind Illian, as she had expected, but behind Gormin. No one bid them farewell. Most likely, someone knew where they were going, but not someone who would dare to give away Illian’s plans by waving goodbye, even with most of the outpost still asleep.

Within moments, they had passed through the veil that protected the outpost, and it vanished magically behind them. Silver looked back, staring at the empty trees and the arch, which was all that was visible of the outpost. She could sense the very faint aura of magic there. But not for long. Within minutes, her view was swallowed up by the dark trees. Then their walk turned to drudgery.

On they trudged through the hush, sticking close to each other and stumbling where their footing turned treacherous, peering through the night with the awareness that the beasts could set upon them at any moment. Gormin hissed instructions periodically, directing them past obstacles that grew steadily more apparent as the gray light of dawn filtered down through the canopy. Gradually, the sun rose. The air grew sticky and thick, the insects obnoxious. Silver’s bag dug into her spine, the straps chafing on her shoulders because she had sweat through her clothes. She was almost certain Holtson’s drills would be preferable to what they were going through.

Illian finally called a halt when she least expected it, nearly nine hours into their trek. Overhead, the sun had risen and begun to sink again towards the horizon again.

“Less than a mile, Cevora,” he said softly, glancing around the gathered faces of his entourage. Every one of them knew better than to speak.

“Tell them why we’re here, Illian,” Cevora commanded.

“Or where here is?” Hiyein muttered under his breath. Despite the tension in their circle, Illian smiled slightly.

“We’re within ten miles of Altiannia. Just that way,” Illian tilted his head to the left. “We have two hours to prepare. At that point, we’ll be splitting the party. Half of us remain here, half will enter the castle through the tunnels. Yes,” he said, clearly reading into the surprise on Sori and Kit’s faces, “they’re real, and only accessible to Altian royalty. The entrance is roughly one mile from where we stand. There’s someone Cevora must speak to within the castle, and this is our last opportunity to gain the upper hand before the king makes the first strike on the beasts.”

Everyone was silent, even though Silver doubted they had any fewer questions than she did. “Estir, Gormin,” Illian commanded.

Both followed him a little distance away, while the rest of them ate whatever they had on hand, checked their belongings, and prepared their weapons. Bek had his dagger. Silver had nothing, and felt thoroughly alright with that; she had been disarmed enough times in practice to assume she would be on the receiving end of anything she carried anyway.

“What will you do?” Silver asked Seijelar and Elorian, “I don’t think you’ll be able to come.”

“I will be with you, human,” the wolf rumbled decisively, “Illian would not stop me, not so long as Faei watches over him.” Silver raised an eyebrow at the wolf, in part because the beast rarely used people’s actual names. Seijelar snorted grumpily.

“Only call, human, and neither the walls nor the weapons of man will keep me from you.” Silver was surprised that the dragon let her go so easily, more surprised when the beast shimmered and vanished into the trees.

“Holy—”

“I was wondering when they would learn that trick,” Bek observed, eyeing the empty space where Seijelar had stood a moment ago.

“Was it written in your book that they could do that?” Silver asked, remembering the pages upon pages dedicated to the dragons.

“Everything is written in that book,” he remarked casually, running a hand across his neck in thought. His eyes betrayed a hint of impatience that his voice did not, and she might have asked why if not for their argument the day before. As it was, she lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, and eventually took the wolf and went to play a quiet round of cards with Sori and Hiyein. They were the only two who did not look so grim that she started to feel anxious as well.

Her stomach had tied itself in a number of knots by the time Illian called them all together again.

“Sori, Cevora, Bek, Silver, Ren, with me. The rest of you, be ready for anything. If we don’t return by nightfall, take word to Sara. She’ll ensure the right people get the message. Gormin, in that case you will take command of the party. Estir will be my representative among the captains upon your return. Estir, we’ve discussed your priorities for an attempted rescue.” Estir and Gormin both nodded nearly imperceptibly.

“Oliknal sezur atju,” Gormin said, bowing his head slightly with respect. You will have a unicorn’s luck; Silver recognized the phrase as an expression of good will.

“Same, my friend,” Illian said before looking at the group he had called out to follow him. No words, just a gesture and they fell into line, leaving the others behind. Once upon a time, a mile had felt long to Silver. Now she felt that they traversed it in the blink of an eye.

Silver had no idea what to expect when Cevora pressed to the front of the line, eyes darting all around them searchingly. It was weird to see her with a stranger’s face, brushing the hair from her brown eyes and grimacing at the surrounding trees. It was not long before Cevora turned them sharply to the right, and then came to a slow stop at some sort of stone marker. Ahead of them, the ground sloped faintly downward, a great scoop carved out of the earth and filled in with debris and forest matter. With a glance back at Illian, Cevora set her palm against the marker and whispered something outside of Silver’s hearing.

A hiss echoed through the trees, the sound of the earth being sucked inward. Silver edged backward slightly, the backs of her knees pressing up against the wolf. Where the earth sloped downward, it now drew back to reveal a stairwell down into the ground. It was just wide enough for them to enter one at a time, and pitch black.

Cevora headed towards it without hesitation, raising her hand to form a ball of pale light. Silver could only imagine how nice it must be to have that kind of control over her magic. The princess vanished down the stairwell with Illian right behind her. Silver followed after Sori, letting the wolf take the lead in the dark.

As soon as she descended into the earth, the air cooled. The narrow stairwell was not nearly so long as it had appeared from above, and when it ended, she had the sense that the stone walls of the tunnel became suddenly closer. There was barely enough room for her put her arms behind her head without scraping her elbows on the rock. She could hear everyone’s breathing, amplified in the small space. When the last of them were inside, the roar of stone sliding shut behind them was like the thunder of the nightwings’ caverns as it had collapsed around them weeks ago. Silver’s heart stuttered.

They walked through the stifling darkness for some indeterminate period of time, the glaring light of Cevora’s orb ahead cutting jagged silhouettes for everyone behind. Silver watched her feet, trailing Elorian’s thick tail to avoid being blinded. Occasionally, they passed doorways. Some of them had doors, others simply plunged into nothingness, vanishing somewhere deep underground. Silver knew better than to wonder aloud where they went, but that did not stop her from hesitating sometimes to peer into the nothingness.

Then Cevora had them turn. And turn again. The tunnels became a maze, revealed in sharp angles and craggy shadows. No one dared speak. No one dared stray.

Finally, they came to a dead end, and Cevora’s magic orb vanished. Silver could not see what happened ahead of them, but she heard the rumble of stone when the passage opened, and smelled the warm air that rushed into the tunnel from the castle’s innards; some sort of polish and damp stone. She shuffled forward behind Sori and the wolf, surprised to find that they were spilling out into an unremarkable corridor. There were no tapestries, no carpeting, no wood.

“I’ve never been in this part of the castle,” Cevora’s whisper was swallowed up by the corridor as they gathered around her and Illian.

“Few have. It’s no wonder it took me so long to find it. We’re close. This way,” Illian gestured for them to follow, his silhouette dimly revealed by a few faded light channels in the walls. Silver found herself looking for cobwebs or some other sign of neglect, but she had a sense that even spiders knew better than to make their home in this castle. Still, she ran her hands along the stone walls as they walked down the corridor, not surprised to find that they were slightly moist.

Despite her earlier apprehension, Silver realized quickly that she was the least high-strung of them now that they were actually inside the castle. She could see the tension in Sori’s shoulders, despite the woman’s normally calm demeanor, and when she glanced in Bek’s direction, she saw his hand riding just above the hilt of his dagger. She thought her lack of concern must be because this part of the castle was so clearly abandoned. If more than two or three people had been down here in the past hundred years, she would be surprised.

Illian was again silent when he finally brought them to a door twice as tall as he was. It looked ancient, the wood dry and cracked around nails as wide around as her fingers.

“I can’t protect you from him, Cevora,” Illian said softly. The princess nodded, dropping the veneer of the stranger’s face from her own. Silver felt the magic fade, leaving Cevora’s pale, sea-green eyes bright with determination. “Very well. Two to each hallway,” Illian commanded the rest of them, “no one passes this way alive.”

Silver felt herself nod almost mechanically. The gravity of his words should have brought a little bit of her anxiety back, but she felt perfectly certain that no one was going to bother them.

“You seem confident,” the wolf growled, sitting beside her. Silver rubbed her fingers behind its ears, having no other answer. Meanwhile, she heard the rasp of the old door sliding open behind them. Warm air spilled out, smelling of sulfur and smoke. It reminded her forcibly of the Castle of Divides. Then, she had faced the Zara. Now, she wondered, what had Cevora come to face?