Hello guys. This is a previous story from a loooong time ago that I uploaded. Unfortunately the username that I published it under is inaccessible as I have long since gotten a new email address. Anywho, I resurected the story out of the blue, just for fun because I have always loved these books. The story picks up where The Tenth Power left off, the crew is back in Merithurous. I hope you all like it :)

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.

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ChapterOne

Nightmares&Obligations

Calwyn's POV

…Her feet beat against the hard ground as she ran. Where she was running she could not see for the sky was dark without even the light of stars to guide her. Who she was running to was a girl, her friend. The girl's screams pierced the night and grew louder as Calwyn neared. Her heart pounding against her chest, and the sound of her feet pounding against the ground combined to create one nerve-wracking song. At last Calwyn reached a clearing. Two dark figures came into view. One crouched over the other stabbing it repeatedly. The figure being stabbed was clearly Mica. Her golden eyes locked on her murderer. A scream rose in Calwyn's throat but she pushed it back down. The killer raised her knife once more to finish the job. Mica's gold eyes began to flutter as death came upon her. Calwyn couldn't take it anymore. She opened her mouth to yell, to stop the assassin.

"Stop!" She heard herself say. Her voice sounded far away, as if she wasn't really there. The figure with the knife paid her no attention and brought the knife down hard once more eliciting a cry from the already half dead Mica.

"Stop, I said! You're killing her!" Calwyn opened her mouth once more to yell at the killer but no words came out, for the assassin had turned to face her. For once the heart that had been pounding in Calwyn's breast as she ran stopped, if only for a second. The assassin stared back at her with cold hard eyes, brown and unforgiving. Hair like black silk and a scowl on her beautiful but enraged face. Calwyn's hand flew to her chest as a sob broke from her. The assassin was her.

Calwyn woke with a start. The place where Darrow had lay was cold and vacant as she knew it would be. He said it would be easier to leave with her sleeping, but it only made the aching feeling in her chest deepen when she woke and he was not there. The past months she had taken to slipping into his bedchamber at night. During the months of their pursuit of Samis she had grown so used to the sound of his light breathing beside her, his hand thrown casually across her waist. Now she couldn't seem to sleep without it. Though Darrow had left in the dark of night, it was not his departure that had awakened her. It was the frighteningly real nightmare that seemed to torment her each night. Every night she would wake, screaming from some hideous dream. It became systematic that she would wake, scream, Darrow would then soothe her, and she would lay awake the rest of the night in his arms, too frightened to go back to sleep, lest the nightmare returned. This night no one was here to soothe her back to sleep, there were no strong arms to protect her from whatever lurked in the dark spaces of the room.

Slowly she rose from the bed pulling the sheet with her and walked out onto the balcony where the early morning sky was spangled with stars. Calwyn leaned against the rail and watched Merithurous sleep. Still as she waited for the sun to rise, images from her dream taunted her. The mirror image of herself. There was Mica, Tonno, and Halassa, and Trout. There was Darrow and Keela. And there was Samis. The thought of him sent chills down her spine. She saw their last confrontation. Saw the resigned look in his face as she sent him off. She saw Mica's empty gold eyes, heard Trout's sobs. Obligations. People she loved, people she loathed, but all obligations. Then she pushed them all away.

The sun was rising over Merithurous gradually lighting the palace with faint gold light. There would be things to take care of today in Darrow's absence. Arguments to settle, meetings to be arranged, speeches to make. Calwyn cringed. She had never been good at speaking. Nevertheless she would have to, Darrow trusted her to keep the peace while he was away and she would try her best. Reluctantly she returned to her own bedchamber and dressed. It would be a long day.