Seeking Darkness: Book One of the Silverthorne Saga

By Jan Peyton

Remember it is always wise to look to the light that guides you before you go seeking darkness.

Jenna of Moontree desperately wished she had heeded this advice before her decision to chase after an evil artifact causes her to inherit magic that is poisonous to her body. The danger is compounded when the magics owner, a power hungry black dragon named Kitara, wants it back.

Alexis life as an assassin had come to an abrupt halt when a failed assassination attempt ended with his sentence to life as a dragon rider and assigned as guardian of the Eye of Kitara. When the Eye is stole, Alexi is charged with its return and is thrust into Jennas path.

Together they must stop the rogue black dragon's plans to retrieve her magic and take over the world. Will the aid of friends, family and unexpected allies be enough to save the day?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463404666

Jan Peyton

Growing up in a family that highly valued reading, Jan Peyton always had a book in her hands and enjoyed devouring many genres of books. She often felt she had missed her calling as a bard and started to write stories to entertain friends and family at an early age. Jan's interest finally settled mostly on fantasy and the worlds of elves and dragons. Jan lives in Wyoming with her husband and two children. She works in the school district with children with handicaps.

Book preview

Prologue

A feeling nagged at the periphery of her consciousness for her attention. It was like the buzzing of an insect. Then suddenly, power hit her full force like a hammer in the middle of her chest; just as suddenly, it was gone, completely gone.

She shot upright at the sensation; muscles not used for a very long time rebelled with pain and weakness. Kitara’s two hundred year slumber was instantly over.

She collapsed back and reached out with her senses to find the source of power that had awakened her. It was no more.

She studied her surroundings. The wall and ceiling were rough-hewn rock. Reinforced iron bars confirmed that she was still imprisoned and the slight blue glow across the bars reminded Kitara that the imprisonment was magical.

She was not sure when boredom had turned to sleep but she knew that she had been sleeping for a while based on the fatigue in her muscles. Carefully, seemingly inch by inch she drew herself into a standing position and braced her legs against her bunk. Once she felt stable she worked to put one foot in front of the other to move to the barred opening. She remembered a guardian being posted when some of her followers had tried to rescue her but there was no sign of him now.

Deep inside of her she felt something stir, a sense that her cell and even her body were too small for her true nature. She felt a strong sense of being curled into a tight ball. Anger, resentment and a desire for vengeance began to rise within her. The core of her being questioned who these people thought they were to judge and imprison her. She was their queen.

She had never understood the motivation of her captors. She had raised an army for the betterment of the realm. Eons of traditions had caused the governing body of the dragons to become stagnant and inflexible. Kitara had been born an oddity in the world; a dragon who was a dreamer. She believed the lesser races had been allowed to rule for too long. Dragons were far superior in intelligence, wisdom and magic. They lived for generations, which prevented the civil wars over who would rule in seventy short years. It was a natural order for races less developed to bow to a race that was so obviously designed to rule them. She found a handful of other dragons that were willing to follow her. Within a decade, Kitara and her supporters had control of most of the southern regions.

As her memories flooded back to her she remembered who she was. She was Kitara the Black Dragon Queen; she deserved their respect and fear. She would see the Dragon Council destroyed and would exact her revenge on each of those people who had contributed in her incarceration. First she needed to regain her magic. That thought brought her back to the sensation that had awoken her. It was her magic trying to reach her.

When the Dragon Council had past judgment on her, they sentenced her to eternal imprisonment and that her magic should be removed and locked away in special containment stone. Her mind flashed to the jagged, black obsidian stone, she had mused that they called the item the Eye of Kitara. She recalled watching it being put in a secure and magically shielded room. Over months she discovered that she was able to see through the stone. Accidentally, she discovered that she was able to influence weak minded servants to do her bidding. She convinced a maid to steal the stone and bring it to her. Her newly appointed guardian found out and the shields to the room were reinforced and she no longer felt a connection to her powers. That she had been assaulted with such a strong sense of that energy told her that it must have been freed of the bonds of the room. Hope began to rise as the alarm bells rang out.

The guardian stood before the Dragon Council, a group of dragon representatives that spoke for each type of dragon in the world. A riot of colors covered the chamber as the councilors lounged in their true dragon forms. As he faced the assembly, to his right were the metallic dragons, they were generally considered the good dragons though often naïve. In the center was the gem dragon delegation, it was the group that the guardian most closely identified, they were fairly neutral though most leaned to the views of the metallic dragons. They were not above doing unscrupulous things for the greater good. Finally, to his left were the chromatic dragons, a group of wyrms that were almost wholly motivated by power and self-interest. They focused solely on how the outcome would affect them.

Faithfully, he had fulfilled his duties to the assembled for two hundred years but he was always nervous to be called before the council. His partner, an amethyst dragon stood beside him. The dragon looked down at him and gave a draconic grin. Nervous, the question came into the guardian’s mind.

Where the Dragon Council is concerned I’m always nervous. He turned his attention back to the platform where a shining gold dragon stepped forward. Guardian, it is the opinion of this council that you have performed you duties admirably. We have decided that you have repaid for your crimes against this body and…

An elf hurried to the gold dragon’s side and spoke quietly for a moment. The dragon’s head snapped up and he focused once again on the guardian. The Eye of Kitara has been stolen, he declared and a rumble of shock and dismay swept through the assembled dragons. The guardian recognized that the chromatic dragons looked too satisfied and their lead representative was missing. Panic flashed through him instantly and he turned to run from the council hall. His partner’s massive claw gently gripped his arm. Where are you going?

Grim Blackwing is missing, give the council my regrets but I know where he is headed. He disengaged his arm from the dragon and darted down the hall.

He cursed at himself for his carelessness. He had always been conscientious not to stick to a predictable schedule. If his enemies never knew where he would be it discouraged them from trying to release Kitara. He never dreamed that his summons before the council would give them the opportunity they needed since they would know exactly where he was and when he would be there.

Kitara did not need to ask why the alarm bells rang. She returned to her bunk, sat down and focused on the eye. Soon her vision was transported to a wooded area outside of Dragon’s Peak. She apprised the group that stood around whoever held the obsidian stone. They were all humans and Kitara laughed thieves she thought to herself, the dragons have allowed their most valuable item to be stolen by petty thieves. She listened for a moment to the conversation around the eye. She could hear the unguarded thoughts of the human treasure hunters. It had been centuries since she had been around anyone who did not tightly guard their thoughts, and Kitara mused at the dizziness of the untrained minds as a wave of disorientation washed over her.

What’d’ya think that’s worth Jack? asked one of the men to the person who held the stone.

More money than anything we imagined, Pascal.

Since Pascal held the eye she could see into his thoughts. A petty thief in a petty guild, Pascal had no aspirations beyond money. His thoughts led the disembodied dragon to notice the quiet man who stood back from the other two. Though his name was not spoken, Kitara knew he was called Garth.

The man had been of simple mind but then as a dragon Kitara had never found a mortal that would rate above an infant in dragon intelligence levels. Garth’s thoughts ran to power and revenge. He was a greedy young noble, fifth in line to inherit his family’s estate. It was a fact that meant he would never be more than a minor spoiled noble. He had only become involved with his current company in order to relieve the tediousness of his life. The dragon could tell that the he would kill Pascal for past injustices if only he had the power to get away with it. She also sensed latent mage skill that the tall man had no clue he possessed. Kitara reached out with her mind and her abilities within the Eye, to touch the thread of magic connected to the man. Garth shifted as if bitten by an unseen insect. This man is my key!

Kitara spoke directly to Garth’s mind. Garth, why are you wasting time with such small men?

The human turned first one way then the other as he searched to find who spoke to him. Who said that?

Pascal glared at the man. Nobody said nothing. Don’t stand there like a great oaf, this thing’s heavy, come get it.

You are a nobleman! Never let a peasant speak to you that way. Garth grabbed the stone from Pascal. Kitara took advantage of the close contact and his unguarded mind. She flooded the man’s mind with images of possibilities. Open yourself to the Eye of Kitara. Let me guide you. The dragon could sense a surge of confidence in the man.

Garth, Pascal shouted. You really are simple ain’t ya. Get over here!

Garth handed the Eye to Jack; then stalked toward the little man as he drew his dagger. He gave no warning as he drove the blade up under Pascal‘s ribs. Shock held the victim firmly in place before he collapsed lifelessly to the ground like a doll dropped from a child’s hand.

Jack looked from Garth to Pascal’s corpse two or three times, his eyes wide with disbelief but never said a word.

I’ll do the ordering from now on, Garth told him.

Fine by me, as long as I get paid, it makes no difference, Jack tried to be nonchalant. He looked once more at Pascal. I always did think he was a bit of an ass.

With almost a reverence, Garth lifted the Eye of Kitara. Follow my instructions and you will have all of the power you need for your plans and more, she coaxed. He nodded and she took a breath in order to tell him how to release her.

Suddenly her concentration was broken by a hand on her shoulder. Lady Kitara, a voice said beyond her current vision. Her focus broken; she lost contact with the human. The black dragon growled as her sight cleared and she looked on the face of the one who interrupted. You stupid… she stopped short of her insult as she stared into the black eyes and malevolent smile of Grim Blackwing. Grim, how…?

The guardian was summoned to an audience with the council, he said with a shrug. Let us get you out of here before he returns.

You are a brilliant boy, she complimented and patted his cheek. I wish though that I had not lost contact with that human who had the Eye.

Do not fret, we will meet with them soon enough, his grin broadened at her look of approval.

You have planned this well. A sense of magic tingled over Kitara as he reached for the cell door. Wait, she warned belatedly and pulled on his arm. A curtain of fire covered the doorway as Grim set off a magic trap left by the guardian. She had pulled Grim out of the path of the flames enough that he did not suffer the full effects. However, bright red, angry, blistered skin covered his arm, neck and the right side of his face. His features were contorted with pain as he fell back into the cell. Kitara knew that they did not have any time to lose. Grim get up we have to move, undoubtedly, the trap will signal the guardian. She gingerly helped him to his feet and the younger dragon blindly stumbled out of the cell.

The guardian ran down the hall of the containment cells and slid to a stop as a surge of magic drove him to his knees. He knew that the trap he had set should anyone try to leave Kitara’s cell had been triggered and he hoped it would slow down the black dragon’s escape. Quickly he forced himself back to his feet and down the corridor. His heart sank as he found Kitara’s cell door wide open. Scorch marks covered the doorway from ceiling to floor and on the floor were ashes that indicated the spell had gotten someone but not enough to keep them from getting away. He swore again and stooped to see if there were any tracks. He scrubbed his face with his hands and called himself several degrees of stupid. He felt a familiar presence move up behind him.

We were set up my friend, he told his partner as the amethyst came to look into the cell.

I know. The guardian could tell that the dragon hesitated to tell him something.

Let me guess, the council sees this as my fault and I am to find her.

That about sums it up, yes. I tried to defend you and tell them it was their summons that had drawn you from your duty but…

You know old man, it’s fine. I have a score to settle now anyway. One of them got caught by the fire trap, they will have to heal and I hope it will slow them down enough to allow us to catch up. He stood tall and looked the dragon in his large purple eye. It’s too late to leave tonight so tomorrow at first light I will leave and I am going to find Kitara and the Eye.

We, my friend, I will go with you, the dragon assured his partner.

He nodded his thanks and left to prepare for his departure from Dragon’s Peak.

Kitara stole a supply wagon that sat outside of the servants’ entrance to Dragon’s Peak. She helped Grim into the back and set off down the canyon toward the dwarven mining town of Renningard. She knew only one individual she could rely on to help her further her escape and get Grim much needed attention from a healer; her mate, to whom she had not spoken since her capture, Damien Blackheart.

Chapter One

The grey fog hung heavily around her like a wet wool cloak. The mist mingled with remnants of smoke from dying campfires and formed a curtain that made it impossible to see anything around her. Her skin glistened with dampness. The emerald green grass at her feet was a stark contrast to the colorless air surrounding her. She glanced around to get her bearings before she moved. In the distance, she knew that the trampled grasses of the field gave way to the thick forest.

She stood poised for an attack that she somehow knew was coming. She gripped the leather bound center of the quarterstaff tightly and her fingers to ached. She heard a splash and blindly swung at the sound. Shadows darted about her, obscured by the fog. Those shadows seemed to occasionally contain sickly yellow eyes. One sword blow then a second connected on her body before she responded, she felt tremors in her arms as a sword impacted solidly with her stout oak staff. Her battle-heightened senses warned that an enemy rushed from behind. She spun to face the new combatant and used the momentum of the turn for added power to the blow that struck her opponent. She crouched slightly and planted her feet in the slick mud. Somewhere nearby she became aware of her companions and watched with horror as the last fell. Then thousands of yellow, bloodshot eyes focused on her as a circle of enemies slowly pressed toward her. A shadow passed above and a bolt of lightning ripped the sky asunder; with a deafening roar, the horde overran her.

As she cried out, Jenna of Moontree bolted upright in her bed and looked around in a moment of confusion. Her mind raced as she tried to focus on her whereabouts. She fought for every breath as her heart hammered in a wild attempt to break free from the bonds of terror that encircled her chest. Her bedclothes were soaked in sweat and the air was stuffy with the rank smell of fear. Every muscle felt as if she had just fought the horde in her dream. The familiarity of her own room registered as she labored to rein in her galloping heart and gasping breaths.

Was it a nightmare or a vision of the future? Her gift of clairvoyance was sketchy. As Jenna lay back in her bed and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts mulled over the dream. There has not been much activity in the area, she thought to herself. Unwanted creatures rarely wandered into the forests of her people. Those that did were met by elven scouts and turned away. Even with these assurances though, all of Jenna’s instincts still screamed that something was not right. Her mind raced considering this as the wind began to pick up outside her shuttered window.

The idea that she might drift back to sleep surrendered, she turned up the flame of the oil lamp at her bedside and walked to the window to open the shutters. The air was sweet with impending rain. Most of the houses in the elven village were dark. The wind bent tree branches low, lightning flashed in the distance and she listened to the thunder for a few more moments, a powerful storm was approaching. Jenna closed and barred the shutters against the storm winds. "Odd," she thought, "the weather seer said nothing of rain."

She went to the other windows of her small cottage to be sure that everything was fastened tight. She reached the kitchen window just as it began to rain. The wind hardened raindrops stung her hand as she fought to close the window covering. Once everything was closed, Jenna sat down at the table and listened to the rain pound against the roof. She was glad that her father and brothers had insisted on a wooden roof rather than thatch for Brennan’s and her new house. The cottage was a marriage gift from her parents. The couple was only there together for a couple of months before they were sent on separate scouting assignments.

It was nights like this that she missed living at her parents’ house. Usually a storm brought her parents and brothers to the kitchen, they would listen to the wind and rain and talk. Jenna thought of times around the familiar kitchen table as she went back into her room. She stood in front of the mirror for a short time studying her reflection. Her green eyes were dark with sleep and her long auburn hair was falling out of its braid. She let her hair loose and brushed out the tangles. Her facial features were reminiscent of her mother’s. She had the same eyes and high cheekbones and as an elf, her ears came to the most delicate of points. Her physical structure though was much like her father’s and brothers’. She was well muscled and taller than most women of her community. Jenna was definitely of Warrior Caste stock. Her right bicep carried the dark tattoo that indicated that she was of the warrior and a member of the Moontree clan.

As quickly as the storm had come up, it was gone. Jenna chanced opening the kitchen shutter. The rain had completely stopped. The only evidence of the storm was the litter of windblown leaves and storm pruned branches around the village. The tree branches of the forest just beyond the village hung low with the weight of the raindrops. Moonlight filtered through the limbs and made intricate patterns on the ground. She took a deep breath of fresh, newly cleaned air and noticed her parents’ chimney smoking. It was a sign that they were awake. She had grown up in a full house and was used to people being around her always. Jenna had arrived home before her new husband and their house felt empty. A hint of loneliness shaded her mood. She stood for a few moments and finally decided to give in to her urge to see them.

She dressed swiftly and crossed the clearing to their house where she knocked quietly at the door. It opened to her father, Kiernan, dressed in a pair of plain brown breeches and a loose white shirt. Jenna, I wondered if you would come, he said with a reassuring smile and stepped to the side to allow her in.

She followed him through the house to the kitchen. At the table sat her brothers Aidan and Ronan. Her mother, Lark, came from behind her with a kettle. Jenna! her mother exclaimed merrily. I did not know if you would come or not, being in your own house now.

I could not let a rain storm go by without coming to this table, Jenna proclaimed. I was pleased when I saw smoke from your chimney. My house was a bit empty since Brennan has not yet returned. She said, taking her usual place at the table.

Did not his group leave before yours, her father asked with a bit of concern. He knew that the commanders of the scouts tried to work the schedule so that all teams were a week apart in departure and arrival. Brennan should have returned before his wife. He decided not to panic his daughter just yet. How did everything hold up in the storm?

Very well, there were no leaks, she said.

Good. I knew that the extra time on the roof would be an advantage, he observed as he joined his children at the table.

There was another knock at the door and then heavy boots sounded against the floorboards. Soon Nessan’s wet head appeared in the doorway. Is there room for one more?

Nessan, you are drenched! But we are glad you are here, their mother said musically. Go take off those soaked clothes.

Got caught in the rain, did you? Jenna teased her brother.

Nessan nodded slightly, I was just coming in with the hunting party when it began to pour. It was a good hunt though. He headed for the back room. There should be plenty of meat until the crops come up.

Good to hear, their father commented.

Lark set tea in front of everyone then sat down as well; has there been any word from Brennan’s scouting party? she asked Jenna.

No, and honestly I am concerned. His patrol usually does not take this long, she paused for a moment then added reluctantly. And I had a strange dream tonight. Jenna started.

A dream? her mother responded with a glance to her husband.

As Jenna told her family of the battle with the shadows, the terror that she had felt when she first woke up came back to her. I am worried because this is not the first time I have had this dream. And I have the same eerie feeling that I experienced when I dreamt of Nessan and the bear. Jenna recalled the recurring dream of Nessan’s hunt that ended in being mauled by a bear and how that vision had saved her older brother’s life.

Perhaps you should ask Nessan when he comes back if they crossed anything unusual while they were hunting. Aidan said.

She nodded at the merit of the idea and they sipped hot tea in silence as the family waited for Nessan to return. All eyes turned to him when he entered the room. What, he asked self-consciously.

Their father took up the inquiry. Did the hunting party find anything out of the ordinary while you were out?

No, there was nothing, why do you ask?

Jenna had a dream about an attack. We were just making sure it was not a vision.

No, Little Sister, there was nothing out of the ordinary, Nessan said for her assurance.

Jenna relaxed a bit. She did not particularly like nightmares but better a bad dream than the alternative.

The family visited for a couple more hours before they decided to turn in. A knock sounded at the door, Kiernan left to answer it; then called urgently to his wife. Lark, we are in need of you.

The group got up from the table as one and followed her to the living area. There stood two men covered in blood and a third lay on the couch. Jenna recognized him as Connor, one of Ronan’s scouts and part of Brennan’s party. Lark rushed to his side and began to examine the extent of his wounds. What happened here, she asked the other two.

We are not sure Mistress. We were on a patrol and he came stumbling out of the forest. His wounds looked bad enough that we knew he needed the help of a cleric, he demanded to be brought here.

Connor strained to sit up but Lark restrained him. Commander, there was an attack, he started to Ronan. Jenna’s heart ached as she realized that this would be his final report. The amount of blood that covered the two who carried him and the pale color of his skin foretold his death. I am the only one to make it home, he gasped between words to finish his report.

Who attacked you? Ronan asked.

It was a large band of goblins. There was probably fifteen or twenty of them.

Are you sure it was goblins? Goblins never gather in bands of that size.

Yes sir. They were brutal. I have never seen a group bent on killing. Usually they are after supplies or something material, his description started to meander then he snapped back to his report. These creatures were just out to destroy.

It took time for the words that Connor was saying to register with Jenna. Are you saying that all of the others are dead? her voice carried disbelief.

Yes, he answered then realized he was talking to Jenna. I am sorry Jenna. Brennan gave me his final report and ordered me to find Ronan. He fought fiercely but when I left the creatures had surrounded him.

Ronan read the paper Connor gave him, and then turned to Jenna. Her expression was outwardly calm but the set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes gave away the fury that lay beneath the surface. There is nothing we can do tonight. He could tell that she wanted to protest. If we leave tonight we could wander into a trap. At first light tomorrow I will take a patrol and find the band responsible.

He turned back to the dying man. You did very well. Thank you for bringing us this information. He placed his hand on the man’s forehead. Rest now, you have more than earned it.

As if he had just waited for Ronan’s permission, Connor let go of the mortal ties of the world and breathed his last.

I will inform the council and tell the families, Kiernan stated. He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. Would you like to stay here tonight, Little Hawk?

No Father, thank you but I will be fine at home, she assured sternly.

I will meet you at your house in the morning, Ronan stated to her.

You want me to go? Jenna asked with surprise.

Naturally; someone must seek justice for Brennan.

I will be ready, she said firmly. Her eyes flicked to the paper in his hand. May I have his report?

Of course, he handed her the paper. Be sure to get some rest. We have some hard travel ahead.

One by one the children said their good-byes and left for their own houses. Ronan stayed behind for further advice from his father. Was I right in making Jenna part of the patrol tomorrow? Do you think she will be able to handle it?

You were right to ask her. She is a full member of the warrior caste and deserves the same treatment as any other member. She will be fine once Brennan’s attackers are dead. We can no longer protect her like she is an elfling.

True, I guess it is just natural to do so.

She will be the best of us some day, Ronan. She has your mother’s spiritual caste temperament and our warrior zealousness. I am extremely proud of all of you. Kiernan gave his son’s arm a squeeze and smiled a bit sadly.

Jenna tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. She fought to prove to anyone watching that she was fine. He is not dead. She told herself. I would know if he was dead. She reached out with her senses to the place in her heart and mind that kept her in touch with Brennan. His presence was gone. Panic rose in her as she hurried into her door. She shrank to the floor sobbing. No, no, no, no, her mind repeated the word rapidly to try and will it so, he cannot be gone. It is too soon. We have had no time.

After a while, she sat up and pulled herself together. She went into the living room and sat down heavily in her chair. She unrolled the paper that contained Brennan’s last words to her brother. The slant of the letters and the disconnection of the script indicated haste in its writing.

Commander,

The patrol and I have been tracking a destructive band of goblins. We found several burned out farms on the outer reaches of the forest. The inhabitants seemed to have escaped. We found the group just east of Lake Wyniff. They seem to be striving to join more of their people. I am not sure of their motives but it is clear that they are a danger. After considerable deliberation, the patrol and I have agreed that we must stand between them and Cair. Please send support.

Jenna smiled at the knowledge that Brennan knew her too well and had added lines for her.

If I do not survive this stand, Jenna, know that I died for an honorable purpose. Know that I have loved you since our first handshake before that archery challenge. I never imagined that my heart could be so completely captured. Thank you love for being my wife. I know that you will seek justice on my behalf; I just ask that you be careful.

She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. Sorrow, frustration, fear and anger warred within her. Her sorrow and frustration was over losing her husband so soon after their wedding. She feared going after a band of goblins that had slain a patrol of elves that were stronger and wiser than her. In the end though, her anger won domination. It built to a fury that was barely contained. She grabbed her bow, quiver of arrows, and stormed out of her cottage.

Minutes later found her in the Academy archery range. Without much thought, she began to fill targets with arrows. Before she knew it the candles burned low in their sconces and thin, watery light peeked through the high windows.

Have you been her all night, Ronan’s voice asked gently from behind her.

I suppose I have, she replied as she let another arrow fly.

I guess it was too much to expect you to rest.

I could not sleep, her answers were short.

Are you going to be able to travel today?

Absolutely, I will get my gear and meet you.

Ronan saw determination in his sister’s eyes that he dared not challenge. He nodded his agreement and left the young woman to gather her things. Good, we will meet you at the edge of the village.

Right, she said with a curt nod.

Dressed in tan breeches and thick cotton tunic covered over by a studded leather vest, Jenna joined her brother and the two scouts. She recognized the first as Rurac. He was older than most of the other scouts and even though his hair had just started to gray, his six foot two frame had not lost any of its strength. His smiling deep blue eyes kept a keen look out on the world; making his tracking sense unfailing. He had been an instructor at the Martial Academy for many years. When an Elf with superior tracking skills was needed he was called..

Rurac stood talking to Rhys, who had shown skill as a scout at an early age. He was one of the youngest ever admitted into the Eastern Scouts. His skills with bow and the ability to weather sense made him a valuable asset. He also projected a youthful enthusiasm that inspired those around him.

Good morning Master Rurac, Rhys, Jenna greeted them.

Jenna, Rurac returned with a nod.

They each took a pack of supplies that would sustain them for the time it would take to investigate what was going on in Silverthorne Forest. They then turned and headed into the woods to begin their trek.

A dense ceiling of brilliant green leaves closed in over their heads. High in the branches of the trees small animals scurried after each other.

The scouting party traveled the day without incident and set up camp shortly before dark. Each person took a watch before anyone turned in for the evening. Rhys was first; followed by Rurac, then Ronan and finally Jenna would finish out the early morning.

She lay back against her rolled up cloak and closed her eyes. Soon she traveled back into the battle scene.

As the horde rushed toward her, Jenna looked frantically around her, desperate for an escape. The pouring rain obscured her view and caused her to slip in the mud. The fog once again began to close around her as the heat of battling figures collided with the cold rain. Jenna gripped her staff preparing for the worst. A large form passed overhead, shrouded by the thick mist. From behind her she heard her name called, she turned to see Ronan reaching for her, badly wounded. Jenna. She turned back to the rushing army and discovered half of it gone. Suddenly a loud roar boomed from above the blinding mist.

Jenna, Jenna, wake up. Ronan shook his sister from her nightmare. Jenna!

She sat up with a start and looked at her brother in a daze. His face was marked with deep concern. Ronan, are you alright?

I am fine, what about you? Was it another nightmare?

She shook her head. No, it was the same one, just a continuation. You were dying and everyone else was killed. She stared into the fire as she talked.

We are all well, Jenna, Ronan said as he put his arm around her and gently guided her head to his shoulder. It is your watch, are you up to it?

Yes, I will be fine; she answered. I really do not want to sleep right now anyway.

Her brother offered her a cup of hot tea. She stared into the dark surface of the liquid as she held the cup between her hands tightly. Get some sleep brother; we have a long trail ahead. She smiled up at him.

Right, are you sure that you will be fine?

Positive. Now get to sleep, Jenna teased with mock forcefulness.

Jenna wandered the outskirts of the camp. She felt restless after her dream and the sounds of the night animals in the forest around her served to soothe her nerves. It seemed to her that there was nothing unusual and quietly returned to the center of the camp to stoke the fire for a little more warmth. The sky above the canopy of branches began to lighten to an ashen gray. The sun would be up in about another hour.

She had just settled on the stump near the fire when she heard an odd rustle of leaves. When a twig snapped a few steps closer, Jenna grabbed her bow, notched an arrow and waited for the intruder to step into the camp. Minutes crept by and there was no glimpse of anything out of place. To be