War of Three: Empire of the Peaks, #5

By Adam J Mangum

War has come. Enemies align. And those fighting for freedom must unite.

Despite her girls being prisoners to the invaders, Calla joins the rebel cause to use her newfound powers to defeat the Empire's enemies. The young foreigner Jayzca is figuring out her own new powers and is determined to fulfill her prophetic destiny. Crisdan, stripped of his powers, hunts a traitor who could ruin everything. And Zornan becomes something akin to a god so that he can kill the one who wants to rule them all.

WAR OF THREE is the final book in the compelling and original epic fantasy series, THE EMPIRE OF THE PEAKS.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adam J Mangum
• Release date: Sep 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781945359187

Book preview

1

Meeting the Ten

Jayzca stood with Mizcarnon on rocky ground outside the new Imperial capital of Cliff Face. Her body was covered in sweat despite the chill of the early morning mountain air. The world was quiet, with only the natural sounds of the mountains around them. A bird called in the distance and a small animal scurried among the rocks.

Stupid silence and peace. It wasn't helping Jayzca reach into the Otherworld and call the Brave Ten to her side.

How did it work the last time? Mizcarnon repeated the question for what felt like the one-hundredth time.

I told you, Jayzca seethed. I was unconscious and lying half-dead on a stone floor. So maybe you need to knock me over the side of the head and lock me up.

Go easy on him, Chage spoke to her from the Otherworld. Her bonded Hol'Feel'Koo might be the only person in the universe who could calm her.

Jayzca looked up at Mizcarnon. His black eyes, the feature that mirrored hers, looked down at her. Guilt sat on his face as clearly as the concern did, guilt for bringing her across the ocean to another land far from family and everything familiar. But Mizcarnon had nothing to feel guilty about. This was all Jayzca's doing. She decided to rescue Mizcarnon by bringing him into the Otherworld and get herself exiled. She was the idiot who'd chosen to leave Cliff Face and tried acting as a spy in a city she didn't know, almost getting herself killed. She'd been the fool, but Mizcarnon felt the guilt.

She drew in a breath and let the air push out some of her frustration. I'm sorry, Mizcarnon. I just don't understand how this works, and the Nur'Fee'Cuo aren't much help. Chage and their chieftess, Noora, can barely communicate. She rubbed sweat from her forehead. This seems so impossible.

Mizcarnon placed a hand on her shoulder. I'm sorry, Jayzca. I thought, perhaps, that some focus would work, like when I learned to fight and fly. I'm as clueless as you.

Probably more so, Jayzca jabbed. I mean, what can an emperor know of anything really, when he's stuck in a throne room all day?

She'd meant it playfully, but the quip brought a grimace to Mizcarnon's face. His responsibilities weighed heavily on him. His fraction of the Empire stood on the edge of war with one of the other two factions, maybe both.

But before Jayzca could offer her own comfort, their aloneness was broken by one of the Imperial Guard cresting the nearby hill. Mizcarnon nodded to the man, as if he had spoken, which he probably had to Mizcarnon's mind.

Unfortunately, Mizcarnon said to Jayzca aloud, those duties call me back.

Jayzca nodded, trying to keep the disappointment from her face. Despite her failure to call the Brave Ten to her world, she had enjoyed a few minutes alone with her friend. It had felt, for just a moment, like their time traveling across Croxshine and the ocean.

Mizcarnon reached up and brushed some of Jayzca's white hair back from her face. You can do this, Jayzca. I have no idea how these Brave Ten work, but you brought me back from near death. If the Brave Ten are meant to help us destroy Nansart, then they will.

Mizcarnon followed the guardsman away from the clearing and toward the city.

You should go talk with Noora'Fee'Norsk'Din, Chage spoke into her mind. Noora was the local chieftess and had painted the prophecy on the ceiling of a cave in which Jayzca called the Brave Ten to battle. She might be able to help.

Jayzca let go of her world, feeling a rush like she was about to fall as her world's colors of brown and tan changed into the deep green and bright blues and oranges of the corresponding part of the Otherworld. Chage sat on a boulder, his green fur seemed liked it belonged in this lush place.

We've seen her three times in the past two days, Jayzca pouted. What more is she going to say?

Maybe we should look at the painting again.

Jayzca closed her eyes against the rage building in her chest. Chage was not to blame for her frustration, so she should not take it out on him.

Her eyes awoke to a slight thud, and she looked up to see Chage standing before her.

What was that? she asked.

He held out his hand. A large, brown nut filled his palm. The seed was mostly round, but not completely, more of an organic, irregular shape. He turned his hand over and dropped it. The nut hit the ground with a thud, but then bounced back in the air. It struck on one of its irregular sides and ricocheted to the right. Chage reached out and snatched it with his other hand.

It's a dooreg, Chage said with a wide grin. It's like a ball, but each one is different off the tree, so it doesn't always bounce like you think it's going to.

So while I'm trying to figure out the fate of my world, you're here bouncing a ball?

Chage threw the dooreg lightly to the ground and it bounced right back up to him this time. You used to know what it was to have fun, Jayzca.

He bounced the dooreg at her, but it took a wicked recoil off an irregular side and disappeared into a bush.

You're supposed to catch it! Chage threw his hands up into the air and went into the bush to find his ball.

I don't have time for children's games.

It's not a child's game, Chage called from inside the massive bush, his words mixing with the sound of the massive Hol'Feel'Koo rummaging. The warriors play it. I got this dooreg from the leader of the Brave Ten. He stepped from the bush, his face curled into a triumphant smile, holding the nut above his head like a prize.

You met the Brave Ten? Jayzca exclaimed.

Well, yes. He looked to the ground, avoiding her gaze. They train on a field outside the village.

She stepped up close, trying to look intimidating like when her mother had scolded her as a child. It was a lot less effective when the chastised was more than twice your height. Why didn't you tell me? We should talk with them.

Noora thought it best that you not talk with them. Chage still wouldn't look into her eyes and he rubbed his feet in the rich dirt.

She's not your chieftess, Chage. And she's not mine either. And I'm tired of everyone treating me like a child. I'm twelve, not a baby.

He finally looked at her. I'm sure she had her reasons. I mean, she saw the prophecy and everything. She knows more than we do.

But you told me she doesn't know how I call the Brave Ten into my world.

Chage brought his right hand to his cheek, the Hool'Feel'Koo version of a shrug.

So she doesn't know everything, Jayzca continued. So let's go meet them.

You met them already.

It was kind of true. In two different dreams—dreams that had turned out to be more than dreams—she'd seen them. She'd been able to speak with them in those visions, but that had not given her the ability to communicate with Nur'Fee'Cuo outside whatever these dreams were.

I haven't met them properly, she corrected, and I'd like to know exactly who I'd be calling into my world.

Chage brought his hand to his cheek again. Alright, Jayzca. Let's go meet the Brave Ten.

They walked through the lush jungle scape of the Otherworld mountains, which mirrored the dry desert version in her own world. Mirrored was the wrong word. In both Jayzca's world and the Otherworld, there were mountains, but the mountains were shaped a little different. They were higher here than in her own space, and the life in this world was so different. The foothills surrounding Cliff Face were baren with some low bushes and small trees. But in the Otherworld, the warm mountain teemed with life so thick that the Nur'Fee'Cuo had folks whose only responsibility was cutting back the foliage so their paths would remain navigable.

Jayzca followed Chage down a path she hadn't walked before. If she had her sense of direction right, which was hard to keep hold of in the thick jungle, then they were skirting south of the village. Up ahead she heard calls, the distinct guttural language of the Nur'Fee'Cuo, so like the Hol'Feel'Koo yet somehow different.

They reached a clearing, a rarity in the thick jungle. The area had been cleared and was a field of the dark brown soil that covered the Otherworld mountain here.

Jayzca had expected to find the Brave Ten armored and fighting, but instead, she found eight of them running around the field. One held a dooreg nut ball. The other seven chased the one with the ball, a female with fur that was grayer than the customary Nur'Fee'Cuo white. She dodged one, chortling as the large male missed her and fell in a heap to the ground. But another male caught her, and as she fell toward the ground, she bounced the dooreg onto the ground and it took a funny hop. The remaining five went for it, and a shorter one snatched it out of the air. All the players went for the short one, but halted at a shout from the side.

Sitting at the edge of the field was another female, the one with the dark blue eyes Jayzca had seen in her dream. She shouted at the group and when she spoke, the game began again, with seven Nur'Fee'Cuo chasing after the short one who had nabbed the dooreg.

The blue-eyed female sat on a tree stump in the corner of the rectangular field. A tall male flanked her, standing. He was still shorter than Chage but was one of the tallest Nur'Fee'Cuo she'd seen. He was lean and had a scar across his face and snout from his left ear down to his throat—a molted pink against the black skin and white fur. Despite being nearly as tall as Chage, he looked a lot smaller. He was lean, wiry where Chage was thickly muscled.

The male nodded respectfully to Jayzca as she approached but did not look at Chage.

The female with the deep blue eyes did not look at them but kept her eyes on the game. She followed each movement, nodding and shaking her head at different points. Her fur was as white as the snow in the valley below, but shorter than Chage's, showing black skin beneath.

Can you ask her if she'll speak with me? Jayzca asked Chage. He'd learned a little of the Nur'Fee'Cuo language in their weeks there.

He nodded and said something.

The blue-eyed one looked over at Chage, then at Jayzca, and then back to Chage as she replied. She then turned back to the game.

I think she said for us to wait.

Chage sat down on the edge of the field, and Jayzca leaned up against him. The game seemed like chaos to her, just a lot of running, tackling, and weird bouncing of the ball-like nut. She couldn't tell who was winning, or if winning was actually a thing.

The one Jayzca kept her eye on was a female, larger than any but the male standing next to them. She had never secured the ball and didn't seem very interested in playing. As if called by Jayzca's thoughts, the large female stopped, turned to Jayzca and smiled broadly.

The blue-eyed leader stood, shouting and waving her arms. The big female yelled something back, though the tone seemed resigned. Blue Eyes yelled again, and the game came to a halt. She waved her big paw and the group came toward them.

Jayzca tried not to blush. She was pretty sure she'd just ruined whatever they were doing.

Blue Eyes barked something at Chage.

I don't think she's happy, Chage said, shrinking back a little at the Nur'Fee'Cuo's verbal onslaught. She's very aggressive.

But Jayzca was tired of older creatures, humans, Mazzdu, Hol'Fee'Koo and now Nur'Fee'Cuo, telling her what to do. She stepped up to Blue Eyes, fixed her with a tight stare, and said, Tell her that I need to know what beneath the moons is going on. Tell her that I need to know how to call them.

Blue Eyes stopped and looked at Jayzca. Half her mouth lifted in what might have been a grin. Chage said something, and then Blue Eyes replied.

She says ok, but since Patti won't play with you here, she's asked me to join the game. Chage seemed eager at the prospect.

Jayzca turned back to Chage. But how will I speak with her if you're playing?

Chage brought a hand to his cheek.

Jayzca sighed and motioned with her head toward the field. Go ahead, you big goof.

Chage hooted and joined the others out on the field. He was bigger than all of them, thicker and taller. But as the game began, his size seemed of little advantage as the smaller, quicker Nur'Fee'Cuo darted around him.

The tall female who'd stopped playing sat down next to Jayzca and said something, smiling again.

I can't understand you, Jayzca said, knowing her own words were equally as useless.

She pounded her chest. Patti'Fee'Jun. She pointed at Jayzca.

Jayzca. She hoped she'd guessed right as she placed a fist on his own chest, mirroring the motion of the Nur’Fee’Cuo.

Patti pointed at Blue Eyes. Maasa'Fee'Din. She spoke the words deliberately.

Maasa looked over, nodded, and returned her eyes to the game.

Patti looked kindly on Jayzca, but not in a patronizing way. Moons, even if it was patronizing, Jayzca was thrilled to have anyone besides Mizcarnon and Chage take her seriously.

How do I bring you to my world to fight? Jayzca asked, knowing it was too soon for that.

Patti inclined her head, clearly confused.

You. She pointed at all the Brave Ten. Come. She motioned like she was gathering them all in her arms. My world. She pointed at herself. Fight. She mimicked fighting, kicking and throwing her arms out.

Patti laughed, a deep sound like wind through a canyon. She said something and clapped her hands.

She knelt next to Jayzca, and the largest one stepped over to watch. Patti drew ten circles in the sand and then pointed at herself and the others. Dianda'Fuma'Cuo.

Dianda'Fuma'Cuo, Jayzca repeated.

Patti smiled broadly. She drew another circle apart from the others and pointed at Jayzca. Jay-ca.

Jayzca, Jayzca corrected, but Patti only nodded.

Patti drew another shape between them, a line with an arch above it. Mitta.

Mitta, Jayzca repeated.

That means door, Chage shouted from the field.

Jayzca looked up. He held the dooreg now as two warriors tried to wrestle them to the ground. But they couldn't. He wasn't as quick, but he was stronger.

Patti pointed at the shape between Jayzca's circle and the circle of the Brave Ten. Matti. Door.

Jayzca reached down and drew a line between the Brave Ten circle and in her own drawing right through the door. How do I get you there? she muttered.

Patti reached over and lifted Jayzca's chin, their eyes connecting. Her eyes were dark like Maasa's, but they were a rich green instead of blue. She tapped on her chest with her other hand, moving her fur as she did, then she put her big paw on Jayzca's shoulders.

I don't understand, Jayzca whispered, desperation threatening to break her.

Patti smiled again and rubbed Jayzca's cheek with her thumb. It felt like a gesture Jayzca's mother would have used, and Jayzca fought back tears.

Patti stood and said something to the largest one. Then she pointed at him and said, slowly, Diander'Maz'Fin.

He nodded at Jayzca, and pounded his chest with enough force that it would have likely crushed Jayzca's bones to dust. Dia.

Patti said something else to Dia, and he nodded. They both looked at her for a moment in silence. Then she knelt by the door and erased Jayzca's line through it, shaking her head.

She stood again next to Dia in silence. The larger one looked over at Patti with what could only be described as a scowl, though Nur'Fee'Cuo facial expressions were new to Jayzca. Then his eyes fell on Jayzca. He moved at her and growled. Jayzca lifted her arms in a feeble attempt to shield herself from the oncoming Nur'Fee'Cuo.

Before Dia reached her, Patti wrapped her arms around his chest, spun him, and slammed him to the ground. The ground shook, nearly knocking Jayzca off her weak-kneed legs.

Patti released Dia, knelt by her drawing, and made a line between the ten circles and Jayzca's shape.

Realization came as clear as the rising of the white moon. You come when I need. You come when I'm in trouble.

Patti could not have understood Jayzca's words, but Jayzca's hopeful tone and brightening eyes said it all. Patti smiled broadly, picked Jayzca up, and hugged her. Jayzca hugged her back.

The White Mother would provide during Jayzca's need, just like she had in that terrible prison cell. The Brave Ten would come, and with them, she would crush Nansart and his minions.

2

Training

Zornan collapsed on the forest ground, exhaustion trying to pull him into oblivion. He hadn't slept all night and had been up early the day before for Frulus's training. More than twenty-four hours since he'd last slept, and he'd been running, jumping, and straining his mind the entire time. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: his weakness compared to Nansart or Frulus's smug expression.

Get up, Zornan Peak Crosser. Frulus loomed above him, cheery and alert despite the fact that the younger man had been doing almost everything Zornan had for the past twenty-four hours. Nansart will never give you time to rest.

Zornan struggled to his feet, his muscles and mind protesting the simple motion. As soon as he stood, he felt something, like a breeze that wasn't a breeze, a touch that wasn't a touch. Brastilia moved toward him, fast. Without seeing it with his eyes, he saw it, its green glow cutting through the forest. His tired mind registered that it was coming at his head just in time to duck out of the way. The circle brastilia disk zipped past him and stuck itself into a tree behind him with a cracking thump.

Zornan turned on Frulus. You could have killed me!

Frulus snorted. Hardly. I'm guessing you're really hard to kill.

I need a rest, Frulus. Zornan fell onto his backside and sat, breathing in as much air as he could.

Nansart will never give you time to rest. His repeated words were spoken with a bright intensity that flashed in his green eyes, his bushy red hair shifting in the breeze. You will fight him, and whether the battle takes ten minutes or ten days, you will experience fatigue that will make you beg to return to my little training sessions.

Did your father push you this hard? Zornan's reply came out harsher than he had wanted. It wasn't fair to use that against the man. Frulus's father, Jackrus, had been the High Priest of Cazdanth and Zornan's former employer. And Jackrus was likely dead at Nansart's hand.

Yes, Frulus replied simply. And that's why I can do things you can't. The man turned, walking back toward the house. You are due for your lessons with Mara.

Hours after his training session had ended with Frulus, Zornan sat on a stump in the woods with the woman Mara. He'd only known the woman a couple of weeks, but he felt like he knew her well. She'd been training him in the ways of a Bendathdran Priestess. The power of that sisterhood created all the blessed humans and giant flyers the Empire of the Peaks used. They changed young men and women into strong-minded Magistrates, brutish Enforcers, emotion-sensing Investigators, and deadly assassin Baldra. They turned baby bats into giant cosows, and they blessed hawk eggs so they hatched mrakaro instead. Creating a new mrakaro was today's appointed task for Zornan.

Can you feel the newness of the creature? Mara's voice sounded younger than her features, smooth and calm. Zornan had no idea how old the woman was. She looked to be less than sixty, but he guessed she was older. Mayfran said that Mara and Bijot, her grumpy former Baldra husband, had been pretty old when he met them twenty years ago.

Newness? Zornan questioned.

Yes. She never lost patience with him like Frulus did, though Zornan felt like he was slow to learn the Bendathdran ways. Despite having blessed his wife Calla and his daughters with mysterious powers, despite having made his own giant hawk-like mrakaro Two Moons bigger, despite removing a wicked compulsion from the mind of Crisdan Investigator, Zornan hadn't been able to do anything Mara had asked of him in weeks of training. Everything he'd done so far — the inadvertent blessings and helping to free Crisdan — had been done by instinct in a time of intense emotion or need. Sitting in a quiet grove did not bring with it the same necessity.

Zornan examined the small hawk egg in his hand. Using his second sight, he could see the colors of life inside the egg. It was mostly a fierce red, mottled with some orange. The colors pulsed and shifted. He could see life growing within the shell, but he didn't know what she meant by newness.

The pulses of life are different, she taught him, and not for the first time. What's inside me is older, more rigid. What's inside you is more fluid than me, but not like what's inside that egg. New life almost begs the gods to mold it, to push it into what it wants to become.

A hawk to a mrakaro.

The blind woman nodded, her all-white eyes focused on the egg in Zornan's hands. You made Moonie bigger, which is actually more difficult than molding a hawk egg into a mrakaro.

Zornan leaned onto his knees. I thought you said it was harder to create something different than what it was meant to be.

Not harder, more complicated.

Zornan sighed. More complicated is harder.

She smiled. So patient. She reminded Zornan some of Calla's mother, Caladria. That was another woman who knew strength did not lie in violence and fierceness. Have you ever been swimming, Zornan?

Zornan scoffed. Some as a child in the lake. I'm not very good. I'm more comfortable in the air.

"The ocean can be challenging to swim in. The tides make it hard. If you get caught in the wrong tide, then swimming to shore may become impossible, despite someone's skill.

The older a human, or other subject, gets, the harder it is to push the subject away from the moons' intended course. But changing a hawk egg into a mrakaro is more like weaving a basket or crafting a sword; with the right level of skill, it becomes routine. Complicated, but routine. You need the skills to do the complicated; I already know you can do the hard, the nearly impossible.

Zornan refocused on the egg, the pulsing red and orange filling his vision once more. Then he looked in the second sight to Mara. She was more orange, though red flowed throughout. Around the edges of this, he could see something he hadn't noticed before: frayed edges, almost like a worn cloth. Looking back on the egg, he saw no such feature; its edges were very well defined.

I think I see it! he exclaimed. The edges are smooth, not worn like... He looked up at Mara, and then flushed, glad the woman couldn't see everything. Not like older things.

Mara laughed. I'm blind, Zornan Peak Crosser, not an idiot. Yes, I'm worn out like boots past their prime. The hawk egg is not only new, it is also more like the parts of a shoe unassembled. I can't turn the hawk into a horse any more than a cobbler could take the materials for a sword and craft comfortable shoes.

They spent the rest of the afternoon prodding the egg with their magic abilities, making artful shifts. Though Zornan could notice the difference, it seemed subtle; it was hard to fathom that they'd just created a baby mrakaro instead of a hawk.

In a few weeks, we'll have a mrakaro hatchling, Mara proclaimed when they finished. Moonie will make a great teacher, I think.

It would be fun to teach the girls to ride, Zornan said, the words bringing a sharp discomfort. The girls. Trapped by Nansart and Trillia, what were they learning? Was Trillia, herself a master of these arts, changing the girls like Zornan had changed the hawk egg?

Zoran placed the egg into its small nest and stood, his grief-filled rage shattering the calmness he'd cultured in order to bless the egg. Do you think I'm a moon-blasted fool for doing this? For trying to take on a god?

Mara did not look up at him or stand, but remained sitting on her stump. No. If Jern really has become this Nansart, then he will not be easily defeated. I think you're a fool if you think you can take him on alone, but no, not for wanting to defeat him.

But I was a fool for blessing my girls and getting them entangled in this mess. He tried to quiet it, but the self-loathing crept up on him from time to time. He'd failed Windsa and Caldry in his clumsy attempt to protect them.

Not a fool, just ignorant. The fault lays with the Empire. If they taught more about the true nature of blessings, you might have recognized what was happening. Instead, you didn't even know about mindspeak. Foolish traditions darkened your path, not you.

Zornan sat back down. Why didn't Lascrill teach us mindspeak in the academy? And why was I the only Peak Crosser not to figure it out on my own?

Because I told him not to.

Zornan stared at her. You told Lascrill not to teach Peak Crossers about mindspeak?

She smiled and nodded. We were young Kuthraz, trying to find our way. When he took the post, he asked for advice. It's hard to imagine now, but before Lascrill, Peak Crossers were known for their arrogance and foolhardiness. I told him they should learn to fly without mindspeak. I thought he'd teach it at some point in the training, but apparently, he took my advice to the extreme. Regardless, the changes he made to Peak Crosser training created a very different High Trade. Humble men like you and Mizcarnon are more common than not.

Zornan thought on his old mentor Lascrill, the gregarious trainer who'd been a secret rebel at the time.

Can we win? Zornan asked. He knew she believed they could, but he needed to hear her assurance again.

Yes, Zoran, we can win. Jern is not a god, he's not even Nansart. He's a man, and all men fall at some point.

Do you think Trillia knows when I'm looking through the girls?

Calla asked Mara the question as they started their daily training sessions. The previous sessions had been spent connecting with Zornan, Windsa and Caldry, trying to be purposeful about it. The connections came now whenever Calla tried, a welcome change.

It's possible, Mara replied. I don't know the extent of Trillia's gifts, but if we assume that she has all the power of a Bendathdran and then some, it could be that she could see something in their minds. But I haven't been able to see any evidence of your blessing working in Zornan, so it's possible she cannot.

But she figured out my blessing.

The older woman nodded. "Yes, that she did. I don't know enough about Jern, the one who's become Nansart, but I know that he was obsessed with ancient legends of power and magic. Just like I knew of the rumors of abilities like yours, Trillia probably did as well. And unlike me, she might have been less skeptical.

But enough of that. Let's start with something easy. Connect with Zornan.

Calla closed her eyes and focused, thinking of Zornan. She felt a rush, almost like losing her breath, and then Zornan's eyes became hers. I connected with him.

What do you see?

Zornan is sparring with Mairie. She felt dizzy watching them; their movements were fast, blurs of motion. He's beating her back pretty easily.

Mairie looked better since she'd seemingly awoken from her mournful stupor. But she looked very different. She'd chopped off her gorgeous curly blond hair, cutting it short like a man.

Let's take a break, Zornan said, pulling back from Mairie.

Can't handle it, old man? Mairie said. She breathed heavily, sweat covering her forehead and showing through her clothes.

Calla could not see Zornan's face, but she saw no signs of sweat on him, and he didn't even seem to be breathing hard, despite the effort.

Hi, Calla. I can feel you in there. A month prior on their way to Bristrinia, they had discovered that Zornan could feel when Calla entered his mind.

Zornan sensed me, Calla said to Mara. Though he could feel her and then communicate, she'd been unable to communicate with him.

Good, Mara said. Now cut it off and find Caldry.

Zornan's sight melted into blackness as she focused on her youngest daughter. Another breathless sensation passed, and a new vision opened in her mind. I have her.

What do you see?

She's dining, by herself. For the last several weeks, Calla had never seen the girls eating together like they had previously, or doing anything together. Trillia had isolated the sisters from each other. Caldry spent most of her time with that bizarre Dagger woman, learning to fight. Windsa spent most of her time with Trillia learning the mental arts.

Calla opened her eyes. They are isolating my children.

Mara nodded gravely. It makes sense. They want the girls to feel connections to them. Isolation is a great tool to build connections.

It's sick. Calla could feel the despair that seemed to cling to her nearly every moment. It threatened, every day, to overwhelm her, to keep her from rising from her bed. But each morning she fought it, rose, and kept moving. And each morning, she wasn't sure she could. These people are twisted.

Yes, the former rebel agreed. If Jern or Trillia ever had pure motives, those have been lost in their machinations.

So now I should reach out to Windsa, Calla said, trying to refocus herself and push that angry despair deeper, away from her consciousness.

No. Your next exercise will be finding a new target.

Calla took in a deep breath. They'd tried this several times, but it had never worked. She's gained the ability to feel a map of the Empire of the Peaks in her head, to sense locations like most High Trade could do, but that was it.

Where? Calla asked, trying not to sound too despondent.

Let's try Humdel again. We could use some eyes there. Mara's husband Bijot, Zornan's sister Zandia, and the Baldra Nishana had been there and seen its fall to Nansart. It was the largest valley in the Empire, the only province with an independent army, now under the control of their enemies.

I will try, Calla managed to say, not feeling any of the hope she tried to put into her words.

She closed her eyes once more, finding herself on the mental map of the Empire that now sat in her brain. She could feel green lines of energy flowing throughout, connecting the Infinite Mountains, the brastilia ore providing her a way to sense it all. She found her location, Skathall, a small valley in the central region of the continent. She moved her sense north and east toward Bastarna, the large valley contained in the Infinite Mountains. Once she found the massive valley, she moved eastward to its edge and found its largest city, Humdel.

I've found Humdel, Calla said.

Good. Now try and find the minds of High Tradesmen. Anyone.

Calla could feel the location of the city but not the people within it. It was as blank as a mountain or the empty valley floor to the east. Humdel could be identified by all the unnatural use of brastilia throughout the city: furniture, accents in buildings, weapons...

Weapons. Most High Tradesmen carried weapons. Calla drew her mind in as small as she could, as close to the city as she could. Then she saw them, like little green fireflies moving about the city.

She gasped and opened her eyes. I found all the High Trade in Humdel!

Mara raised an eyebrow. All of them? At the same time?

I can see all the brastilia weapons.

Mara smiled. Well, I've never heard of anyone being able to do that.

I just made the map closer to my mind. They look like little fireflies moving about the green glow of the city.

The older woman laughed. The noise reminded Calla of her mother's laugh. Calla, that is not something High Tradesmen can do. I can't do that. You are connected to the brastilia flow like no one I've ever met. She leaned forward. "Now, you won't find all High Trade that way. Many Magistrates, Counselors and Investigators carry no weapons, depending on Enforcers to protect them. But some still do. And there are criminals who carry brastilia weapons for their own use. But every Enforcer, Peak Crosser, Guardsmen, Tunneler, Trader, and Ferrier will carry the weapons, not to mention Baldra and Shindar.

So close your eyes. Follow one of your little fireflies and see if you can catch its mind.

Calla did as she was told, and to her surprise, her mind returned precisely to where she'd been in Humdel, the smaller green lights moving about the city. She focused on one light, bringing it even closer to her mind. And then she saw different colors: orange and red. They were indistinct and still distant, but they moved with the moving green dot. Second sight. She was seeing a person. She focused on that person and...

The blackness disappeared, replaced by dim light. The sounds of the woods around her faded into the sounds of a city. She saw through someone's eyes, someone she didn't know. The person moved quickly down a busy city street, others moving out of their way. No, not just moving; they were darting out of the person's way. The individual was almost running through the city.

I connected to someone, Calla said to Mara. They're in the city, somewhere near the city center. They're moving quickly.

Who are they?

I don't know. I can't even tell if it's a man or a woman, or what class of High Trade. They haven't spoken or looked down at themselves.

Keep with them. Let's see where this goes.

Calla kept her focus. Finally, she got some clues. The person once looked at the ground to step over something, and that revealed much. It was a man's chest and he wore Peak Crosser brown. He eventually reached a Peak Crosser keep.

Hello, Durba, the Peak Crosser spoke to a portly woman inside the keep. Could you get Infin ready? I need to leave.

The middle-aged Peak Crosser keeper looked worried, her eyes darting around as if to see if anyone was listening. The keep appeared to be empty, at least inside. You know I can't do that, Darp. We're under strict order-- She cut off when the Peak Crosser, Darp, shoved a piece of paper into her hand.

I have orders from Jubb Counselor. I'm bound for Bristrinia.

Durba's eyes widened. You're working for them?

What do you expect me to do, Durba? I got stuck here. I can't leave unless I work for them.

Your loyalties shift like the wind, heh? Her eyes had gone cold, hard. I thought Lascrill taught you better than that.

Lascrill? Durba, listen to yourself. The old bird runs the mooning rebels. His loyalty shifted, if it was ever to the Empire. I--

Calla opened her eyes and related the story to Mara.

Alright, Mara said when Calla was done. Let's do it again.

For the next several hours, Calla moved in and out of the minds of High Trade she found by using brastilia weapons as her marks. She found an Enforcer headed into a brothel, a Magistrate who was fond of daggers, two more Peak Crossers sitting at a tavern complaining about being grounded, and a Tunneler who was hiding in an inn, trying to stay away from the Imperial officials.

We've found nothing, Calla complained after finding another Enforcer headed to another brothel.

Not true. Several of these confirm that Lanthia and Nansart are, indeed, in control of the city.

But we knew that already. Calla knew she was whining like one of her daughters, but she couldn't help herself.

We knew they were in control, Mara said. But when Bijot and Zandia were there, they said there was an underlying tension and that fewer soldiers than normal patrolled the streets. Where are the other soldiers, then? Dead? Getting together to marshal a rebellion?

I haven't found anyone like that.

Mara looked down, lost in thought. After a few moments, she replied, "Because we're looking in the wrong