Prelude

Abby and Tristan moved away from the huge ship, sand whispering beneath their feet.  So odd, Abby thought, to realize how his feelings had changed since he came to this reality.  He didn't dare even glance back at the strange craft, because right then he would have willingly gone to the stars again.  He would have done nearly anything, in fact, just to be with these people a little longer.

And Tristan shared his sorrow and loss that crowded in even before they had left... Always going somewhere else.  Leaving the others behind.

He didn't want to leave his friends, and in that moment both of them nearly stopped as their emotions overwhelmed them.

But the need to end this madness propelled them forward as friends bade them farewell. Right then, though, Abby couldn't make sense of the journey anymore.  He understood that he paid the price to save a life, but even so...

If we don't go on, what other friends would fall? Tristan wondered.  Friends we don't even know yet, true -- but there have been friends everywhere we passed.

These friends that they would soon leave behind said kind words, their faces showing bleakness that Abby hadn't expected.  After all, they hadn't brought much joy to this group.  There had been danger at every turn.

There always is, Abby.  Even without us.  But they had a chance to know that they truly fought on the side of good, and that counts in a lifetime of other uncertainties.

He agreed, silently and wordlessly with a sweep of bittersweet emotions.  He was too tired to think more clearly just now, and afraid if he tried he would be bitter at their departure.  They had to go on.  He didn't want to go angrily, or part with their friends in such a mood.

"Rquana?  Would you ward, please?" Tristan asked as he pulled a piece of the Kiya from the pouch.  "Sometimes it is dangerous when we leave."

"I would be honored," Rquana replied, and both he and Etric came to help.

The two wove a ward around Abby and Tristan, magic enveloping them in light and warmth.  Abby bowed his head a moment, not daring to look at the friends they would never see again.  He urged Tristan to open the portal, to let them go quickly.  Lingering would not help.

Tristan, magic surging through him, reached for somewhere else.  Abby looked up to see -- a city, a wide expanse of water... a castle.  It seemed more like home than many other places they had been.  He hoped that would help...

"Magic. Gods, Captain..." Banning whispered, a voice just beyond the ward.  "Magic to go... anywhere."

Abby looked back at the others one final time.  His hand tightened on Tristan's arm, and he bowed his head.

"May we meet again in some far port," Crystal said, kind words in parting, a whisper of longing, as though Crystal could hope for such a thing...

And then they were going elsewhere again.  Abby watched behind for Gix, and saw the others grow farther away... disappear.  Gone forever, except in his heart.

Part One: The Apprentice

1

The scarlet sun dipped closer to the sea, leaving gray shadows along the city's paths where people rushed toward their homes and safety.  Dacey pulled his tattered cloak closer around his shoulders, and watched the fading light with despair, just as he had watched every other vanishing day for far too long.  Glancing to make certain no one could see him, he slid down the dried mud of the stream's bank -- careful not to leave noticeable prints  -- and into the dim recess of the footbridge.  There he stopped, unseen within shadows both dark and damp.  The torpid stream, well below bank level in late autumn, moved sluggishly before him.  Not far away the water tumbled over the cliff side and down to the sea.

That waterfall, and the broken rocks of the shore below promised an easy, and quick death.  Dacey didn't think even the mage's spell that kept him in the city would hold back.  He could, after all, go down to the shore by the more usual trails.  That chance of an unbroken fall promised him hope of an escape, though a dark one.  He could kill himself before the soldiers took him, if they found him here.

People passed quickly over the wooden bridge, boots and sandals alternating in the sounds of rushing movement.  Someone laughed, obviously happy to be going home where he would pull his shutters tight, and believe himself safe from the evil that walked the streets when the double moons crossed the starry sky.

Fools, to think that thin wood and metal trinkets would keep out all the evils, especially at a time when the dead showed up almost nightly, despite their precautions.

Dacey looked away from the setting sun and back to where red light danced across white stone walls of city buildings and beyond to the mountains that formed a cup around the capital.  The Horns of the Demon -- twin peaks of that mountain range -- stood tall and bright in a carmine blush.  Legend said that fifty mages once entombed a monster there, and saved Green Isle from destruction.

Dacey wondered if anyone even thought about that legend three centuries ago, when the inhabitants of Green Isle outlawed magic.

Gregor had been the last of the great mages who had existed in secret until now.  The last -- and the fools had killed him just a few weeks ago.  The King's Guard, the only force allowed in the capital city, still spent each night hunting for Gregor's apprentice, even with worse problems stalking the cobblestone streets.

They thought the apprentice -- Dacey, who hid in the shadows, powerless to protect himself -- had created the dark, foul creature that murdered and fed on the bodies of the citizens.  He had not.  He'd never had the ability to use magic, though he had the knowledge.

Dacey had few options left.  He would not be able to outrun the guards for much longer.  He grew weaker, tired... and even his will to live seemed to ebb with each setting sun.  He'd been lucky to survive Gregor's death, having just been sent on an errand. Well, as lucky as he had ever been in life since he came to be in the mage's care. 

Perhaps Gregor thought his apprentice had been too young to remember life before he served the mage.  But Dacey often dreamed of life filled with light and the laughter of his older brothers, even now, twenty-two years after his parents sold their youngest child to a mage.  He would never understand why they gave him over to the forbidden arts that would get him killed if caught by the honest people in the city of Dodano.

The sun cast a final light, blood red and dying, across the city.  People, finding themselves still on the streets, scurried to their hearths and homes.

Dacey had no home.  The best he had found was a hole under the bridge's woodwork -- a tiny place of relative safety, so small and cramped that (so far) no one had looked there for him.  Now, as two soldiers started down the bank toward the stream, Dacey caught hold of the undersides of the bridge and pulled himself up into the crevice above, toes and fingers gripping the damp, splintered wood.  Practice should have made this easier, he thought, but he knew the growing weakness of his body would betray him soon.

"Did you hear what they found last night, Captain?" one guard asked, stopping at the edge of the stream, hardly more than a yard away.  The man's helmet glinted in the very last sunlight, and Dacey winced at the feel of metal so close.

"I heard," the Captain said, the words grunted with anger.  He gave a quick, cursory look up and down the stream before starting back up the embankment again.

"Another dead woman. A baker this time, and dead just like the others.  Heart torn out, her body mangled." The guard made a sound of disgust, and Dacey agreed with the feeling.

"I know," the Captain said, and kept walking. Away, Dacey wished them.  Move away.

"Damn that apprentice to hell!  Someone's going to catch him soon!"

Dacey agreed with that as well.

The soldiers climbed back up the embankment.  Dacey remained in his uncomfortable perch while they lingered by the bridge, until he heard the sound of their heavy boots crossing back over the bridge, and drifting into the now black night.

The city of Dodano slowly fell silent except for the occasional cry of a startled bird.  Dacey finally let go and dropped into the muck at the edge of the little stream.  He winced as much at feel of cold mud oozing through his sandals as at the quick pain of a twisted ankle.  Breathless and cold, it took him a moment before he could stand.

The guard had been right; they would catch him soon if he didn't find a way out of his private curse.  He wished he could go across the Horns of the Demon, and try to live in the wild forest -- but old Gregor had made that dream impossible with two simple spells.  The first spell trapped him within the walls of the city, and the second left him mute.  Gregor had feared his apprentice from the start --had feared that the boy would become greater than him.

He'd been quite insane, of course.  And he had left Dacey to the mercy of humanity.  Dacey had copied every one of Gregor's spells, and had learned every word and every gesture... but he could use none of those spells until he somehow found a way to break the magic that took his voice away.  Even with Gregor dead, the magic still clung to the one person who had never wanted it. 

No other mages lived in Dodano.  No one else knew magic at all.  Gregor had been the last true mage -- or so Dacey had believed until ten days ago, when this new creature began to roam the streets at night, moving with the taint of strong magic wherever it went.

It brought magic back -- dark magic, to be sure, but even so it offered the only hope Dacey could see in this bleak world.

He wanted to find the creature, though not to clear himself of the accusation that he had created this evil; he was a mage's apprentice, and anyone on Dodano would kill him without remorse for that crime alone.  He hunted it because it might have the ability to release Dacey from his double hell; hunted by man for being a mage, and powerless for the very reason they cursed him.

As he crawled up to the edge of the embankment, Dacey saw the city clothed in dark, the citizens safe (or so they thought) within their walls.  Now the streets stayed empty save for the night guards who searched the streets for Dacey, while Dacey hunted the shadows for... something else.

Even after a dozen days of following it, Dacey still couldn't be certain exactly what he sought.  Gregor had never once mentioned anything as foul as this.  Dacey had read material on older magics that dealt in blood, but even those hadn't needed such wholesale sacrifice as a dozen dead in as many days.  To draw the attention of the magic-hating populace in so blatant a way was -- well, insane.  Dacey suspected that some fool had dabbled in the forbidden, and without the proper instruction, had touched The Dark and not been warded against it. The Dark could warp an unsuspecting soul.

Fools everywhere.

Dacey knew the danger of hunting something warped by dark magic, and he thought he might even willingly give his heart for a chance to speak again.  His only other choices were to run and hide until the guards finally caught him, or else save them all some very long nights and kill himself.  For the moment, at least, he would still rather face an uncertain confrontation with the unknown rather than the certain death those two choices gave him.

Dacey's only magical power enhancement sources came from the two enchanted items.  They could prove very dangerous since they radiated magic, and even people who never dealt in the art could often feel the power if they came too close.  He shunned everyone for that reason, even though he didn't think anyone would have known him if he passed them on the streets. The few people who had dealt furtively with Gregor had never been to the hovel where they lived, and Gregor never let him meet the people.

He had rescued these two items the night the King's Guard took Gregor away.  They'd gone unnoticed in the larger bulk of magic the men destroyed before they burnt the hovel to the ground.

The stone did nothing more than sense magic, but that proved invaluable on these long nights during his hunt.  Hanging from his neck on a silken band, the blue stone sometimes glowed in the dark of night, shining so brightly it almost burnt. At those times he would hear something not far away.  He never saw this creature, nor caught it in the act of killing and feeding, no matter how long he pursed it.  The creature moved very quickly and erratically, and always disappeared before the sunrise.

The second item was a potion that would give him strength and speed, and might save his life if he needed to get away from the guards. Although far more dangerous than the stone in many ways, it hardly mattered.  Nothing he did was without danger.

As Dacey walked the night-darkened streets, he carefully watched the shadows.  The locals feared the night from instinct alone, but even before Dacey had gone to Gregor, he had heard the People of the Night as they ran the world calling their doom to men.

("Shh," a warm voice had whispered.  "Sleep little one.  It's only the wind.")

Men had many things to fear on their little fortress island.  Dacey could not fathom why they condemned magic, the only power that could help them in the battle against The Dark.  Gregor had tried to explain to him once.  They had condemned magic out of a mixture of past history, fear of enslavement, and jealousy of what very few had the ability to master.  Magic had never been for everyone.

And this creature seemed a good example of that truth.  Whatever turned it lose obviously had some capacity, but no power to control --

He felt a sudden pulse from the stone, the now familiar warning as the creature neared.  He continued a few more steps, but the tingle subsided.  He turned around retracing his path, following the warmth as it led him farther into the alleys and darkness.

Shadows chasing shadows: and the real world chasing them both.  The world sometimes came too close; this time Dacey found refuge in a dark hole beneath some stairs while the squad of soldiers moved past, muttering and cursing the dark and the apprentice.  Dacey shivered at the metal in their helmets, shields and swords, a brush of agony so close that his heart pounded and his mouth went dry.

Dacey had lost the creature's path while he hid.  He wandered back and forth along the quiet alleys, trying to locate it again, but finally stopped when he looked up and found the moons nearly directly overhead. 

Dacey fled to what cover he could find while the King's Guard rushed to their own shelters.  Perhaps the fiend dared the moons, but then it was likely more akin to the People of the Night than to men anyway.

Dacey scurried to his hiding place, the abandoned shell of a burnt out building that had not yet been demolished.  He slipped carefully within the ruined walls, keeping to the places where he would leave no tracks, and took cover beneath a piece of fallen roof.  He sat very still, and as ever, silent.

(Go to sleep little one," the woman had whispered.  "All is safe, all is safe.  The doors are locked, the Dark is outside.  Sleep, Dacey.")

Now he slept only from exhaustion, and never in the night.

The moons stood nearly overhead when the talisman began to glow... and then to burn.  Dacey's fingers shook as he pulled the stone and its silken cradle from around his neck.  The blue glow lighted everything around him, and he hurriedly covered it with the tattered cloak he used for a blanket, even while the magic burnt at his fingers.

He peered out through the broken rafters and could see something coming down the narrow street toward his hiding place. 

Run!

No.

Dacey carefully dragged the cloak up until hardly more than his eyes showed through the tattered folds of dirty cloth.  He wouldn't confront this creature with the moons high when anything that dabbled in magic would be strongest.  However, he would dare to follow, even now.  Desperation would drive him out into the light of the midnight moons because he was running out of time.

Dacey saw something coming; the glimmer of lights, a surge of shadows, and knew in the next moment that this was not the creature he had stalked.  He held his breath, afraid to move at all as The People of the Night danced closer to him with a swirl of color, shapes and sounds.

Beautiful.

Dacey had read the history of the wars -- the human histories, tainted with their views.  Fearing their magic, several powerful human mages had banded together and cursed the People to leave the lands ruled by men.  But men had been everywhere, and the People hastily made their new city under the sea.  And they found a weakness in the curse, because when the moons rose at their highest peak, and throughout the rest of the night, magic ruled the world whether men liked it or not.

The mages had fallen under a curse as well, and in the end, the humans turned against them as well when the mages tried to rule the world.  Dacey, even without knowing much else, had often wondered if the People of the Night hadn't been cursed and exiled because they had presented a threat to the mages who wanted to rule.

The tales Dacey had heard as a child, and later read in Gregor's books, had never spoken of the beauty and song, but only of evil and madness that came upon the men who saw them. 

But perhaps that was only guilt, Dacey thought, as he watched, enthralled and even a little enchanted.  Perhaps those who shivered at the sound of distant music really feared retribution for the evil of their ancestors.

Light glittered around them, sparkling like tiny golden stars caught in the wind.  Everything seemed to glow, all bright, clear and rainbow beautiful.  Cloth stirred like clouds; a flow of cloaks, tunics, dresses, capes.  How could anyone think such beautiful People of magic to be monsters?

Ah, of magic.  Of course.  Men feared magic, and wouldn't see beyond that insubstantial veil to the people within.  But Dacey watched them, feeling a lightening in his soul that he hadn't expected.

Just being cursed and despised by man did not make something evil.

Even after the procession of twenty or more had passed, Dacey still held his breath and listened to the lilting music that seemed to combine a dozen words and sounds until he really only understood the depth of emotion behind the melody.

Sad... sad...

Longing for a place in the sun

His heart pounded and his eyes teared at the power of that emotion.  The figures blurred and disappeared as they continued toward the distant shore and their home beneath the rolling water. 

Many said that the People of the Night brought about the demise lost ships. Men, of course, did not willingly swim in the sea.

Dacey sat in the ashes of a ruined house, feeling their loss and longing mingling with his own wounds.  Gods, he hated this world, and all the dark and clammy holes he hid in.  He wanted to be human again.  He wanted to walk in the light of day.

Dacey stared into the dark long after the last of the magical light disappeared, only slowly realizing that there had been nothing in the People of the Night to make him think they might be involved in the rash of murders plaguing the city.  Even the townspeople had, surprisingly, made no mention of the possibility -- but then the People of the Night had come and gone in the moonlight for centuries now, and had never brought trouble like this madness.

No, something else moved through the streets of the city. Something...

Something near. The stone pulsed painfully bright again, and with a start Dacey saw a shadow move no more than ten yards away.  It came straight at him, moving with an awkward, lopsided gait; not so much like a man, but rather like a creature that would have done better on four legs instead of two. 

Gods, a wyrdbane -- a creature caught between human and magical animal.  He hadn't thought it possible that such a thing could be created without another mage, and he knew that there wasn't another in all of Dodano, and perhaps not even anywhere else in the world.

Kept coming at him...

The creature leapt over the half burnt wall before Dacey could no longer doubt it had hunted and found him.  Could he hold it at bay long enough to reason with it, even without words?

Dacey leapt out of the recess and at the creature, startling it back a step while it yelped in surprise. And in that moment Dacey saw this thing in the full moonlight.  Half man -- the shape of the face, and the eyes, he thought -- but the hands had turned to claws and mottled fur covered his face, his arms.  The mouth opened in a snarl to show a flash of sharp fangs as it growled and sprang back at him.

Dacey darted through the ruins, putting debris between him and the monster.  He had never learned to fight, and he wore neither armor nor weapon -- as though any mage could bear metal.  He could say no spell of protection or attack.  He had no hope of survival at all except for his wits.

And why survive, he wondered as he slithered back away.  He had hoped to find a man doing the killings -- an evil man, yes, but one still hungry for more magic that Dacey could have at least held out as a temptation. However, this thing had tasted too deeply of the wrong wine, and it would never be reasoned with again.  It would not understand an offering of magic.  It wanted only blood.

Dacey stopped, panting for breath, uncertain where to turn.  It came around the charred wall, and in the moonlight he could see the claws brown with the blood of others it had killed.  It reached for his heart now. 

Dacey threw his cloak into its face and ran again.

The creature snarled, ripping the cloak with those long claws. Then, with a growl of animal anger, it came after him... the lopsided gait too quickly giving way to the quicker pad of four paws against the stone pavement.

Dacey had nowhere to run that would offer safety on a moonlit night, and especially not to someone they already considered as foul as the creature that followed him.

No choices left...

With a feeling inevitable acceptance, Dacey ran toward the guards' post by the palace gate.  At least if he died, he would do it with his soul untarnished, and save some other innocent from the inhuman claws of this foul creature. This thing that snapped at his feet had been his last hope... and now he could only lead the creature to its own demise and die saving the city that despised him.