Prologue – Shades of Grey
Rain fell in heavy sheets. It pounded down on the Vanishing Woods, pelting straight through the forest's dense canopy and soaking the ground. It beat mercilessly on the head of the girl staggering between the trees.
Her head was the center of all pain in the universe. She felt as though with each faltering beat of her rapidly pulsing heart her head was laid against an anvil and struck with a white hot hammer. How long ago had those men attacked her? How had they even found her? She'd set out at night, three days before scheduled, alone and in common garb.
She shook her head to clear her fogging thoughts and the pain made her lurch into a tree and drop the precious bundle wrapped tightly in layers of oilcloth. It was tied tightly with strong cords and set with wax seals imbedded with magic. Only the person intended to open the package could. It was the best way to ensure a secure delivery.
She picked the bundle up with weary arms and staggered on, dragging her Bladestaff behind her in the mud. Most of her gear had had to be abandoned during the ambush; none of it was worth the painstakingly wrapped parcel falling into the wrong hands.
The Bladestaff was not an uncommon weapon in Andor. It took years of training to master the odd technique required to wield it correctly. Part quarterstaff and part spear, it was an odd weapon to someone unfamiliar with it.
Her Bladestaff was something even more exceptional. It was the Ashan'darei, the Nightsong Blade, forged hundreds of years ago of magic-wrought dark steel. It was an heirloom of her family, a gift given hundreds of years ago by the Queen of Andor for services rendered above and beyond the call of duty. It had been passed down from generation to generation of her line; her father had made her a gift of the Bladestaff when he heard of this mission, insisting the magic of the blade would protect her.
In the end it had done her little good. She'd killed three of her attackers from horseback, before getting clubbed over the head with a rock from behind. In a flash of darkness she'd tumbled from the saddle clutching the Bladestaff and the Package to her, rolled out from beneath her dying horse and made a break for the woods.
She stumbled and sagged to her knees. Glancing down at herself she saw the dark stream of blood that ran down her chest and stained her blouse. The Package tumbled from arms suddenly too weak to hold it and she raised one shaky hand to the back of her head. Or tried to; the motion sent a wave of fire down her arm and up her neck. On top of everything else the pain was just too much.
The world slipped into shades of grey as the rain soaked ground rushed up to meet her. She hit with a soft moan, landing atop the Package, and the world faded slowly to blackness. She could hear the steady downpour of rain for a while longer, feel it pattering against the side of her face, but even that faded, leaving her in silent oblivion.