Prologue

He's dead.

She had entered the priest's quarters in search of Tethtoril; he spent many a lazy morning there, talking with the Loremaster, and Firebead had asked her to retrieve a scroll from him. What she had found had not been the priest and the elderly schoolar, but rather a man dressed in smelly, ragged clothes, who had tried to kill her. She vaguely remembered dodging the first swing of his dagger, but the rest of the attack was a panicked blur.

Her attacker lay on the priest's floor, his glazed eyes staring emptily at the ceiling. Her dagger was embedded in his chest; she didn't know how that had happened. A pool of blood was forming under the body.

She ran for the door.

Parda found her as she crouched behind a rainwater barrel, throwing up her breakfast. "What is wrong, child?" he asked worriedly. "Are you ill? You cut yourself above the brow, there," he said, gesturing at her forehead without quite touching it.

"Oh, Parda!" she half sobbed. "There was a man in there, he smelled like the stables, and he - and he tried to kill me, it was horrible..."

Parda frowned. "I sensed something like this might happen. You must hurry; Gorion bade me find you. You are to equip yourself for travel and meet him at the library, near the front entrance. Bring your sword, he said, but he did not tell me why. Here, child, drink this," he said, and handed her a vial filled with a pale bluish liquid.

She touched her forehead and winced with pain. Her fingertips came away with some blood on them. "Thank you, Parda," she said, and accepted the healing potion. She drank it and felt the pains in her forehead, her arms, her entire body give way to a cooling sensation. "Tell Gorion I'll come as soon as I can."

Parda nodded, bowed and returned to the library. She glanced at the priest's house. He's dead, and I killed him. She shuddered.

She ran home to the inn without looking back.

-.-.-

The path past the barracks might be the longer of her two options, but at least it meant she didn't have to look at the priest's house again. She'd prepared as best she could; her sword hung at her side, and Winthrop had helped her find some leather armour in addition to filling her pack with all kinds of items that'd be useful on a trip. Her hand drifted nervously to the hilt of her sword. She'd practiced with it for so long, but she'd never ever had to hurt anyone with it. Why did Father say I had to bring it? What is going on? She picked up her pace, all but running down the path.

A man in a brown shirt was leaning against the bunkhouse. "'Ere there," he called out to her. "You're Gorion's little whelp, aren't ya? Yeah, you match the description. You don't look so dangerous to me."

She stopped in her tracks and looked straight at him. "And what business is that of yours?" she asked, amazed at how calm her voice sounded. Her heart was racing.

"I'll make it my business if'n I please. Just thought I'd have a look at you," the man said in a slow drawl that set the hair on her arms on end. "Pretty face, but I don't see what the fuss is about. No matter. I deliver your skull and I'm set for life."

As if in a dream, she drew her sword and assumed a defensive stance. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The man had a dagger in his hand, and came at her with the weapon raised. She ducked out of his way and brought her sword around, then up. It cut into his chest, through flesh and bone and sinew. The man screamed - the sound was cut off, like a hiccup - and fell to the ground.

She stared at him, clutching the hilt of her sword with both hands as she tried to regain her breath. She could feel the blood rushing through her, but to her surprise, she was filled with calmness rather than nausea. She'd been attacked, and she had defended herself. It was that simple.

She caught a blur of green movement in the corner of her eye. Karan was running towards her. "I heard shouting!" he gasped, half out of breath. "Are you alright?"

She looked at the fallen man. "He's... He's dead, whoever he was. He lunged at me with a knife, and he wasn't even the first one today!" A lump formed in her throat. "Karan, what is happening to this place?"

Karan's expression was grave. "It's not this place, child... It's you they're after."

Her heart sank. "But why?" she asked plaintively.

"I do not know; I merely know that they want you." Karan sighed heavily. "I have been your tutor for so many years and only in this moment have I come to suspect that my teachings have not been enough. Go to Gorion, child; he is waiting for you on the steps to the library. It is safe for you here no longer." Her tutor paused and wiped an eye.

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. "I'll do that. Thank you, Karan. For everything." Father will know. He'll set things right.

She ran towards the library. Her answers would all be there!