Reign of Shadows: Battleborn Mage, #2

By Angel Haze

A suicidal mission. A cataclysmic power. A darkness that threatens to consume them all.

 

Killien is hell-bent on accompanying the Battlemages beyond the Black Wall to satisfy the demands of a battle-weary king, spite the council who thwarts him, and redeem himself from his dark past.

 

That alone promises to be a perilous mission, one that has killed hundreds of men before him.

 

But when a Seer predicts the birth of a child that will unite the world or destroy it, and assassins come for Killien and his family, he must do everything in his power to protect those he loves, even if it means giving in to the monster he is feared to be.

Reign of Shadows is the second book in the Battleborn Mage series. It is a dark epic fantasy tale of magic, battles, betrayal, revenge, and warriors, monsters, and assassins pitted against each other in a deadly struggle to survive. If you are looking for an action-packed fantasy adventure, escape into the world of Arcanthia where nothing is as it seems.


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• Language: English
• Publisher: Angel Haze
• Release date: May 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778200915

Book preview

Reign of Shadows

Angel Haze

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Map of Arcanthia

1.Bottom of the Barrel

Garrock

2.The Need to Fight

3.The Gutless Bastard

4.Spook

5.On the Brink of Insanity

6.Wrath of the Sea

7.Endless Dark

8.Chains

9.Expendable

10.The Forest of Shadows

11.The Enemy Below

Killien

12.Bones

13.Duped

14.Magic of the Forest

15.Maelstrom

16.Bitten

17.No Man Left Behind

18.The Seer

19.Flames of War

20.Rot Breath

21.Changing the Deal

22.The Dungeon

23.Fortress of Secrets

24.Trapped

25.Ghosts of the Past

26.Death Sentence

27.Taunts

28.Execution

29.The Last Fight

30.Wanka

31.Incompetence

32.Fleeting Hope

33.Acidia

34.Hunted

35.Double Siege

36.Cataclysm

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About the Author

A Note from the Author

Unleash the Adventure...

Copyright © 2022 by Angel Haze

Cover Design by J Caleb Design

Edited by Mike Myers

Interior Artwork by Julia Gill and Catrin Russell from Subtle Touch Creations

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book, including the cover and photos, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronical or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express permission by the author/publisher. All rights reserved.

Any resemblance to persons or places, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.

Dedication

For Ashlynn and Rylen

The world awaits your greatness. Follow your dreams. Become unstoppable.

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Chapter one

Bottom of the Barrel

Killien sat with the Battlemages in the shadowy corner of The Squealing Maiden scanning the tables of drunken patrons, unable to suppress a swell of disappointment. This was it? These were the only men left to recruit for the most dangerous assignment in Arcanthia?

In the middle of the tavern, a ragtag group of burly hunters leaned back in their chairs, their mud-splattered boots perched on the table, and harassed the barmaiden. A dwarf belched a tune, while a younger man, barely older than Killien’s twenty-five years, vomited over the side of a table. A fiddler played in the corner near the hearth, heedless of the drunks and the noise. The place stank like ale, tobacco, vomit and unwashed bodies.

Killien blew out a breath and ran a hand through his short hair. Surely, there were other men in King Rolden’s reign that were brave—or crazy—enough to journey across Arcanthia to the Forest of Shadows. But so far only a few dared approach the rift or the fiendish creatures that had begun to slip through it or the unnatural darkness that hung over the forest, blotting out the sun and stars.

A cowl hung low over his stepfather, Vaughn’s, head, obscuring his rough, angular cheekbones, and his long, silver-flecked hair. Talia sat frowning next to him, clad in faded leathers that clung to her willowy form. The two veteran Battlemages stared in solemn silence, trying not to attract attention. Considering Vaughn’s reputation and his comrades’ violet cloaks, Killien wasn’t sure who they thought they were fooling. It was a miracle they hadn’t been recognized. The patrons were simply too drunk to notice or care.

You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, Killien whispered. You know that, right?

Vaughn’s brows furrowed. We don’t have a choice. There’s not enough coin in Arcanthia to coax sane men to join us.

Then why can’t I—

For the last time, Vaughn grumbled, you’re not going.

It took every ounce of strength for Killien to bite back his response, but he couldn’t afford to make a scene. Not here. Not now. Why not? he asked through gritted teeth. You need fighters. It’s what I trained to do.

Trust me when I say you’re not ready for this. Vaughn gazed at the fuddled patrons. No one is. You can’t just bull ahead like it’s just another training mission.

Fuck the training missions. I’ve spent my whole life fighting. The lions and tigers in the arena. The mage, the chimera—

Vaughn slammed his fist on the table, rattling their tankards. It’s not the same!

Killien opened his mouth to speak, but Vaughn silenced him with a shake of his head. You don’t seem to get the gravity of the situation. He pressed a finger to his temple. King Rolden sent hundreds of soldiers to investigate the rumors. When they disappeared, he sent more soldiers to find them. How many of them came back?

Killien met Vaughn’s steely gaze. Those were soldiers, not—

Battlemages? Vaughn snorted. It doesn’t matter. Many of them were the king’s elite. He gestured across the table to Talia, his most trusted friend. Only Vaughn, Talia, and two other Battlemages had returned from the last expedition. As skilled as we are, nothing prepared us for the creatures that have crossed into Arcanthia. Ten highly trained Battlemages have died, and worse, very little information about the rift was gained. Vaughn sighed. You have not seen what we have.

Killien knew the risks. Vaughn’s account of their previous mission had terrified him to no end. But he also knew what would happen if they neared the rift with too few men—mages or otherwise. All the tests, drills, simulations, and missions he’d been on since he was sworn in as a Battlemage two years ago—this was what they were for.

He fought to remain calm. He would not win this argument if he failed to show Vaughn the proper respect. This isn’t about training or experience. You know what I’ve been through. You’ve seen what I can do.

His stepfather gave him a wary look.

Killien had left the details of his incarceration, the tournaments and pit fights, and his years of living on the streets vague. He had fought tooth and nail to regain the mages’ favor and be accepted as an Initiate in the Battlemage ranks. Many of his superiors spat and cursed his name and lineage, and did everything they could to break him, but Killien had survived worse torments in the dungeons of Vamort and the sands of the arena. He’d spilled more blood than those who trained him, and killed in methods many of the other mages would find abhorrent. Yet it still wasn’t enough to convince his stepfather that he was ready to enter the haunted forest.

It’s more than that, Vaughn said mildly angry. I may not be able to protect you, and I would never forgive myself if something happened. When Killien rolled his eyes, Vaughn scowled. I will not lose you again. When you’re a father, you’ll understand.

A fight broke out in the corner of the tavern. Killien dropped his head in his hands. The gods help us if these hooligans are all that are left to recruit to the rift. The Mage Council would be better off recruiting from the mage academies or the other guilds. I understand that I don’t have the experience you want, he said. The right kind anyway. And, for a job like this, I probably never will. But if we fail... He didn’t want to think about that.

Vaughn dipped his head, rubbed his furrowed brow. Killien eavesdropped on the table of drunks.

Did you hear King Rolden is looking for more recruits? a one eyed, barrel-chested hunter asked his tablemates. Titus, Killien thought the others had called him.

Killien stiffened and shared a wary glance with Vaughn.

The roar of conversation settled to a low din, and several patrons turned toward the table of hunters. There were six of them-- a barrel-chested one-eyed goon, a dwarf, and four others that looked like sellswords, and not very good ones. He needs experienced hunters, Titus continued. And he’s paying three times the original offer.

The dwarf companion perked his head up. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks red from too much ale. That’s because the others didn’t make it back. Haven’t you heard? Forty-foot snakes that can coil a man so tightly his bones pop, giant lizards with serrated teeth, spindly creatures like goblins but with bat wings, and beasts that burst into flames. And that’s just what the Shadowguard has seen from the Wall. Who knows what you’ll find if you actually go in there?

A snooty voice rose above the noise. Only a coward would refuse such a generous offer.

The fiddler’s bow shrieked across his strings.

Hearst, Killien thought bitterly, cringing at the sound of the royal sorcerer’s voice. The wiry bastard emerged from a shadowy corner. His rusty red hair was cropped short, combed neatly to the side, and his long, sweeping robes were tailored and pristine. In The Squealing Maiden, he stood out like a polished crystal in a dung heap. Despite his lack of noble blood, he cast a scathing glance down his nose at the hunters.

What do you think he’s doing, Vaughn? Talia kept her head low, her expression half-hidden by the curtain of dark auburn hair that cascaded down her shoulders, and tore off the end of a loaf of bread while she waited for an answer.

Earning himself a mouthful of bloody teeth, Vaughn replied under his breath.

He’s going to ruin our chances of recruiting anyone, Talia continued. Should we shut him up?

Nah. Vaughn shook his head. If he’s going to survive this journey, someone’s going to have to put him in his place. Better these goons than us.

Did you just call me a coward? Titus sneered. He pushed his chair back and glared down at the royal sorcerer. My right eye was taken in a fight with a grizzly. I’ve stared down the gullet of a sea monster, uglier and meaner than you can even imagine, and diced a pack of angry rattlers with a hunting knife in Dawsad. I’ve been poisoned by a cobra, left for dead, and crawled on my belly twelve miles across the sands of Lyrea to Kurmesier. You have never known fear like I have, yet you call me a coward?

Hearst scoffed and rolled his eyes. So you say … but you tremble at the thought of a simple forest?

A ‘simple forest,’ he says! Titus threw back his head and roared with laughter. I don’t think the king would offer a year’s wages or would have built a sixty-foot-high wall of stone if the Forest of Shadows was a simple forest.

The dwarf looked up again, ale dripping from his beard. Have you ever been to the Forest of Shadows?

Not yet, Hearst said, but King Rolden and Prince Burne have asked me to accompany the men brave enough to join the mission.

The hunters nearly choked on their ale.

You’ll be going as well? the dwarf asked.

Another round of laughter swept through the tavern. Hearst narrowed his eyes at the drunken patrons.

Titus slapped his massive hand on the table, clattering the dishes. If Scrawny Legs is going, I’m tempted to join if only to see him piss himself!

Killien lowered his head and covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. Talia did the same. Vaughn, however, remained impassive.

Titus’s face turned stony, and a hush fell upon the tavern. But we want double.

Now it was Hearst’s turn to laugh. Double this new offer? The king will not pay—

Vaughn’s chair scraped the floorboards as he stood, frowning. We’ll pay the difference. We need all the help we can get.

We will? Killien glanced at Talia for a hint that they had discussed such an arrangement, but her expression remained unreadable.

Titus arched his brow, settled his one-eyed gaze on the silver clasp that marked Vaughn as a Battlemage. The mages are coming? He looked at his comrades. This just gets better and better.

The dwarf jumped out of his seat. When do we leave? He stumbled—either from the drink or his own clumsiness—and the chair tipped back, toppling him to the floor.

Killien groaned as the tavern erupted in laughter. The hunters pulled the dwarf to his feet and righted his chair.

Our ship sails at dawn, Vaughn called out.

Aye, the dwarf shouted, then there’s still time for another round! Ale sloshed from his tankard as he stabbed it into the air. The other hunters cheered.

Perhaps you might restrain yourselves, Hearst sneered. The king needs you at your best!

Bartender! Titus yelled. Another round!

Hearst stomped over to Killien’s table, sidestepping the rowdy patrons as if passing too close might sully his immaculate robes. Look what you’ve done, the sorcerer hissed. They’ll be drunk—utterly useless by morning!

Killien clenched his jaw, but bit back a scathing retort. He still couldn’t believe that the prince had somehow wormed his way back into his life and was sending the sorcerer with them. He hadn’t seen the prince’s pretentious advisor since he had escaped the arena five years ago. To be this close to Hearst, whose master wanted Killien dead, was unnerving. Regardless of what Hearst claimed, Killien couldn’t shake the feeling that Prince Burne had sent him along to make sure he and Vaughn never came back.

The hunters would eat the sorcerer alive if he kept this up … and if Killien didn’t kill him first. He blew out a breath and shot a glance at Vaughn to gauge his reaction.

Vaughn drank from his tankard and stared down at the table. When he had finished his ale, he looked up at the sorcerer.

Well? Hearst asked, the word spilling out as if he’d been holding his breath.

Vaughn shrugged. This might be their last night in Renrock. Let them enjoy it. Most of them won’t survive the Forest.

But double? Hearst asked. Double … triple? I doubt the Mage Council will be as generous with the guild’s coins as you think. Even if Angelique agrees to pay the difference, word will spread. If we have to make another expedition—

Vaughn’s gaze hardened. Then we better determine the source of this rift and kill the shadowspawn that have already slipped through before it spreads any further. He and Hearst stared each other down, neither wanting to be the first to look away.

After a few moments, Hearst turned on his heel and stalked off. A spray of ale sloshed onto the sorcerer’s robes, and he stopped abruptly, his mouth agape.

Sorry about your dress, the dwarf laughed. But given where you are, I’d say you’re lucky it’s just ale. The dwarf flashed a crooked, yellow grin.

Hearst growled and strode quickly to the door, side-stepping a puddle of chunky bile and muttering something under his breath. There was history between Killien and the sorcerer that would never mend. Killien just hoped it wouldn't get them all killed.

***

Hushed whispers followed the Battlemages as they left the tavern. Outside, a rush of fresh air greeted them, a reprieve from the noxious odor of sweat, ale, and vomit.

You still haven’t answered my question, Killien said, as they strode back to the wagon. He wouldn’t lower himself to begging. If Vaughn had not decided by now to allow Killien to accompany them to the Forest, it was unlikely he could be convinced otherwise.

Vaughn frowned, and glanced at Talia, who was trailing a few paces behind them. The two had trained together and been on more missions than they could count. She was the only person he trusted.

You know as well as I that we can’t do this alone, Talia said. We have too few recruits as it is—most are far less skilled and reliable than your son. She paused momentarily, but Vaughn said nothing, so she continued, I understand your dilemma. We’re still grieving the Battlemages we lost in the Forest last time. I will protect him with my life, but of course, the decision is yours.

What am I, a fucking child? Killien growled. I don’t need protecting. I earned my place in the Battlemage ranks. For three years, I fought in Prince Burne’s training yard from morning until dusk, faced gladiator champions and beasts from across the realm in the arena, and fought bloodthirsty thieves and murderers down in the— He paused, realizing his slip of the tongue. He couldn’t reveal too much about his incarceration. It would only push his father away, especially if the prince’s sorcerer would be accompanying them beyond the Black Wall. I want to fight.

Vaughn shook his head and pursed his lips; Killien knew his stepfather was within reach. If you were in my position, he said, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to stop this incursion? By the gods, Vaughn, this is bigger than you and me. We need to close the rift before the shadowspawn destroy Arcanthia.

Angelique will never allow you to go.

So, don’t ask her.

Vaughn snorted.

You’re not required to clear the names of these hunters, so why should you have to ask about another mage? I get it—the Mage Council seems hell-bent on keeping me on a tight leash and seeing that I don’t advance.

Vaughn lowered his gaze. It’s not that, he said, but even he sounded unconvinced.

Don’t lie to yourself, Killien continued. I know what I did, and I’m prepared to accept the consequences, even if my actions were completely justified. When Vaughn still avoided his gaze, Killien pressed on, I know, after all the bullshit, I’m lucky to be a Battlemage, but this … this is what I was meant to do. Killien sighed, not knowing what else he could say to convince his stepfather. Then he softened his voice. Take me with you. We’ll find the rift and end this darkness.

At last, Vaughn looked at him. And if the queen questions your joining us?

Killien shrugged. Tell her I went against your orders and stowed away on the ship. She’ll believe that.

The slightest smile cracked his stepfather’s face. That she would. A moment passed as Vaughn pressed his fingers to his temples. But your mother … she would never agree to it.

She will. Whether it’s fighting Raven’s army or going beyond the Wall to fight the creatures of the rift, she knew I wouldn’t be sitting on my arse at home.

For eight years, his mother had not known if he was alive or dead. When he finally freed himself, he traded his life as a gladiator for Battlemage training. And yet, his mother still clung to him as if he was a little boy.

But he was a fighter. His role as Killer, the prince’s savage champion, had fed his anger and desire for revenge. Now, without an adversary, he was prone to lash out and suffered vivid nightmares of his imprisonment. He couldn’t let Vaughn leave him behind. But he wouldn’t get there by butting heads with him, either. Killien rested his hand on his stepfather’s shoulder. She’ll understand.

The lines in Vaughn’s forehead creased. Wait here. He turned to Talia, presumably to discuss Killien’s joining them.

Killien’s mouth went dry as he watched Vaughn and Talia confer. Their hushed tones and solemn expressions gave him little hope. A few times, Vaughn glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable. Killien knew he was a green recruit to them, with little experience as an actual Battlemage. It seemed the Mage Council was intent on relegating him to recruiting missions, restricting him from all but the most menial tasks. All they knew of Killien were the rumors of his shady past, but those dark days were what had made him strong.

After what felt like an eternity, Vaughn turned to Killien and sighed. I have a feeling I’m going to regret this…

A surge of triumph rose in Killien’s chest, but he maintained his composure. You won’t.

The assignment is borderline suicidal. If I agree to let you go, you must follow my orders without question. This is no time to be a hero or to try to take your revenge on that jackass of a sorcerer. I know there’s a history between you two, but for the sake of this mission, you need to keep your mouth shut. If you want to survive, we’ll need to work together. Killien opened his mouth to speak, but Vaughn raised a hand. You’ll be on a tight leash. Not because you’re my son, but because you’re the most inexperienced of our Battlemages. I won’t have you gallivanting off on your own and risking the rest of the team. You so much as disobey a single order, and I’ll send your ass back to the ship to wait it out, even strap you down if I have to. Vaughn’s gaze was hard, and Killien tensed under its weight. His stepfather was not looking at him as a son, but as a soldier. The Forest of Shadows is not a playground. Count yourself lucky if you return with all your limbs. Do you understand?

Killien inhaled deeply and envisioned the blood he was about to spill and the dying cries of shadowspawn he’d kill. Anqelique would no doubt punish him for going, but he didn’t care. After ten years of torment, he was used to people underestimating him. This was not a game. Likely the very existence of Arcanthia hung in the balance. He met Vaughn’s gaze with unwavering confidence. I understand.

Vaughn studied him for a moment. A test. Killien straightened and stiffened his lips, refusing to break eye contact. Like everything else, he would have to prove to Vaughn that he was ready for this.

After a moment, his stepfather looked away. Come. Let’s go tell your mother.

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Chapter two

The Need to Fight

The wagon bumped along the deeply rutted road, jostling Killien on the wooden bench. The light of the moon shone at their backs, elongating the shadows of the horses and riders in front of them. The wagon rumbled through the gates, breaking the silence of Keldonia, and rolled past its darkened shops. When they crested the hill of the main thoroughfare and his stone house came into view, Killien’s excitement about joining the Battlemages faded—the old house was home; perhaps he should stay.

The house stood in a wide clearing far from the bustling city, nestled between a copse of trees and secluded from other homes in the area. The humble abode was more suited to a laborer than a prominent mage, but two decades prior, Vaughn had turned his back on Sangrea, the gaudy magic-concealed mage capital, and moved into this small dwelling in Keldonia, where mages and ordinary folk lived in relative harmony.

It had been a month since Killien had stayed at his childhood home. Since he was sworn into the Battlemage ranks two years ago, he had lived in either the barracks in Sangrea or camped out in the field, tracking Raven’s bloody conquest.

He hoped his mother would be sleeping. As tough as Vaughn was, the one thing that could break him was his wife, Alexis. When Killien was one, she had fallen in love with a mage and married outside of Aradia. Angelique, the Queen of Aradia, had scorned his choice and was outraged when he told her he was leaving Sangrea.

Vaughn stepped down from the wagon. See if you can get a few hours of rest, he said to Talia. The gods know we are going to need it.

Talia nodded, glanced at Killien, and arched her eyebrows. Good luck.

Killien forced a smile. What would his mother say? It would be easier to quietly pack his things, scrawl a quick note, and slip out before sunrise, but Vaughn would not hear of it. They might be saying their last goodbyes that night. Killien’s stomach soured. He stepped down from the wagon and pushed the thought deeper into his subconscious.

Talia snapped the reins, and the wagon took off.

A small orange glow shone through the kitchen window. Killien cursed his luck. Of course, his mother would be waiting up. He pushed gently on the door, hoping against hope she’d fallen asleep in the chair. He stepped gingerly over the threshold, Vaughn following close behind, and listened for any sounds of life. Then he stumbled on the corner of the rug and caught a curse in his throat.

The house remained still.

Thank the gods.

How did it go? his mother asked from the dark kitchen. Her voice was hoarse and labored, adding to his guilt. She was seated before a dark hearth, a ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needles resting in her lap, a candle burning on a side table next to her. Killien winced. So much for her being asleep. Although he would never say so aloud, she looked awful. She was only in her second month of pregnancy, but she had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her nightdress hung loosely on her bony frame, and deep shadows pooled in her collarbone.

It took several stops, Vaughn said, but we managed to find some recruits.

Better than the last? she asked, raising a creased brow.

Vaughn shrugged. For the sake of Arcanthia, I hope so.

Killien nodded absently, and his mother shifted her gaze to him. Her face was pale in the flickering candlelight.

She studied him for a moment and then said, What are you not telling me?

Killien loosed a breath and did his best to look composed. He had no idea how his mother could always detect something was up without his saying a word. Would she allow him to go? He feared the answer, so he remained quiet and hoped Vaughn would say something. She would listen to him.

I’m taking him with me, Vaughn blurted, a little less confidently than Killien had hoped.

Alexis jumped, her knitting needles clattering from her lap, her ball of yarn rolling onto the floor. She stared at Vaughn wide-eyed. Have you gone mad?

If we are to stop this … thing, we need all the help we can get.

But my boy—

Vaughn took her hand and kneeled beside her. Her eyes brimmed with tears. I will not let him out of my sight.

Alexis scoffed. Then you might see him die. She pulled her hand away. First, I have to worry about losing you, and now you ask me to risk losing him, too? She wiped a stray tear. I lost eight years of his life, you can’t ask me to risk losing any more. You know how dangerous this is.

I do, but Killien can handle himself. Besides, if the rift is allowed to spread, the mages may have no choice but to start pulling the students from their training and sending them to the front lines.

She gasped and glanced toward the bedroom where Killien’s sister was sleeping. Pull from the academies? Kol is only in his second year of training. And Ciara… She closed her eyes and her voice trailed off.

We may have only one chance to close the rift before it breaches the Wall, Vaughn said.

But why? Why does it have to be Killien? Tears began to flow freely down her bony cheeks. She teetered. The worry was clearly making her sickness worse. Why him?

Because he is brave enough.

Killien took a deep breath as he stepped toward her. I know you’re worried, Mother, but I cannot sit here while a handful of Battlemages and hunters go to the rift. We just don’t have enough men. I can help.

Alexis dipped her head, and Vaughn laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned her teary gaze on Killien, wrenching his heart, but he dared not look away. You ask too much of me.

Killien clenched his jaw. His hopes of joining the other Battlemages were disappearing. He tried to think of something to say—anything that might change her mind—but before he could, she held up her finger.

I need to speak to your father, she said quietly. The two disappeared into their bedroom. Soon cries and muffled voices drifted through the closed door.

He had to go. He had no other choice. He was tired of the bullshit missions tracking Raven. Even when they had a lead, it was the veteran Battlemages who followed the trail, leaving him to sit and putter. He was born to fight on the front lines, not be somebody’s lackey. He missed the rush of adrenaline in the gladiator fights, missed staring into the eyes of a feral beast half-starved by Prince Burne’s trainers. He had thought following in his stepfather’s footsteps and becoming a Battlemage would be the most thrilling years of his life; thus far, though, he was bored of the petty tasks. He wanted to fight. Needed to fight—if only to silence the memories that haunted him when he closed his eyes. The Forest of Shadows was just the outlet he needed to unleash his pent-up aggression.

When his mother and Vaughn reappeared a few minutes later, Alexis’s eyes were red and swollen. Neither gave any indication of the decision they’d come to.

Anticipation knotted Killien’s insides. If she said no, he was half-tempted to make good on his jest and stow away on the ship under the cover of darkness.

All right, she said in barely a whisper. A wave of relief rushed through Killien. She beckoned him over and pulled him into a warm embrace. My sweet boy... my sweet, sweet boy…

Killien fought back tears. When he looked up, he noticed his sister, Ciara, standing in the doorway. Her long, blond hair hung over the low neck of her nightdress.

This is crazy! Why would you let him go? She glared at Killien. Do I need to remind you how Oris was dismembered by a beast with four heads and a venomous stinger or how Russell’s leg had to be amputated when he came back?

His mother’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked as if she might change her mind.

Luckily, Vaughn jumped in and his tone brooked no argument. The decision has been made, Ciara.

Ciara slumped her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Killien.

Killien couldn’t tell if his sister feared for his life or if she was jealous. She had only just completed her training and was set to be inducted into the Battlemages in the next few weeks. Even so, would she accept such a dangerous assignment?

You are a fool! She whirled around and stomped back to her room.

Alexis’s tears began anew. She grabbed onto Killien like a person drowning would clutch a log.

She’s just scared, Vaughn said softly.

Killien frowned and stared down the dark corridor where his sister had disappeared. We all are.

Killien’s first hour at home was fraught with awkward silences and strained conversation, but the tension soon eased, and they spent the night reminiscing. He and Vaughn would have plenty of time to sleep on the ship. This might be the last time Killien would see his mother and sister. Ciara must have realized this too, because she put aside her anger and joined them.

When dawn drew near, Alexis stumbled to the privy and spent the next couple hours retching. Ciara sat with her, massaging her back.

Unable to block out the sounds or his guilt, Killien used the time to pack.

The candle burned down. Vaughn stifled a yawn and pushed himself up from his chair. It was nearly time to go.

A wagon rumbled outside along with the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. Through the kitchen window, Killien saw the shadow of the wagon slow to a halt at the edge of the dirt path, but Talia did not come to the door. This was not a time for rushed goodbyes.

Alexis hugged Killien with a strength and fierceness that defied her sickness. Are you sure this is what you want? Her eyes were glassy, and when she looked him in the eyes he swallowed a big lump in his throat. He had never seen such heart-wrenching pain on her face.

He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, and when he finally looked away it was like gasping for air. Suddenly, the journey to the rift was the last thing he wanted to do. He had yet to recover from the trauma of his incarceration, but he was about to risk his life on a suicidal mission against savage beasts. He imagined the massive, terrifying monsters and could almost hear the men’s screams as they were ripped limb from limb.

Ciara wrapped her arms around him. The Mage Council will be furious when they learn you were allowed to go.

I’ll deal with that when we get back. He tried to smile and comfort her, but fear made it impossible.

I’m going to miss you, Brother. She squeezed him even harder. This is the bravest and stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Come back to us.

His mother jabbed a finger at Vaughn. Don’t you let him out of your sight, you hear me? she sobbed.

You have my word. Vaughn placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head.

Their fear was suffocating, pressing in on Killien like ghostly fingers threatening to