"What has happened to you?" said Lannon. "When I first got here, you talked about wanting to be like Kuran Darkender and live honorably. But now look at the things you're doing, Vorden. You're going to end up getting tossed out."
Vorden sighed. "It's the Divine Essence, Lannon. I just can't stop thinking about it. And I'm not the only one. Aldreya told me she dreamt of it too. She wanted to know when I was going to try to find it again, so she could come with me. She told me she believes the Essence is calling to her, that it will teach her to unlock her full potential. She practically begged me to accompany her on a quest to find it!"
Lannon's eyes widened. "You must be kidding."
Vorden shook his head. "I can't believe it either. I thought she'd never want to hang around with us again."
"But what if she's setting us up?" said Lannon.
"She isn't," said Vorden. "I'm certain of it. She might be a bit of a snob, but right now she's pretty desperate. You should have seen the look in her eyes! There's no way she would tell on us. I think she's afraid of what's happening here at Dremlock, Lannon."
"So am I," Lannon admitted. "Every day I hear something new about how bad off Dremlock is-usually from you."
"Sorry," said Vorden. "I just like to keep you informed."
"I know," said Lannon. "And I'm glad you do. I just never expected this. I grew up believing Dremlock was the best place in all the land. It's still kind of like that, but there are a lot of problems here, I guess. It's hard to explain."
"I know exactly what you're talking about," said Vorden. "I expected shining towers and honorable Knights-white horses and good deeds, that sort of thing. I visited Bellis when I was younger, before my parents died. We were passing through on our way to Silverland. And you know what? That's exactly how Bellis is-like the grand kingdom you would always imagine. So I thought Dremlock would be even better. But it has a dark side to it, and I can't help but wonder if this place has seen better days."
"Yeah, it's definitely going sour," said a boy.
Lannon and Vorden jumped up, looking around. Someone was hiding behind a Goblin statue, with just the edge of his brown cloak visible.
"Who's there?" Vorden said. The lad from Gravendar had gone pale.
Out from behind the statue stepped a tall boy with bright blond hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. It was Jerret Dragonsbane, the Red Squire Lannon and Timlin had met very briefly outside the Temple on the first day they'd visited there with Garrin.
From behind another statue stepped a big, dark-haired lad. He had a pointy chin and a hook nose, and also wore a red sash. They recognized him as Clayith Ironback, a quiet Squire who was usually somewhat of a loner.
"What are you two doing here?" Vorden said. "Shouldn't you be in the West Tower this time of the evening?"
"We came to look at some books," said Jerret. "It was Clayith's idea, actually. He wanted to read about potions or poisons or something. Anyways, we heard you guys coming, so we ducked behind those statues to eavesdrop on you."
Clayith gave a crooked grin. "Yeah, we wanted to eavesdrop."
"Well, what of it?" said Vorden. "Now I guess you know we're up to something. So what are you going to do about it?"
Jerret shook his head and smiled. "Nothing, Vorden. I couldn't care less what you do-except that I'd like to get in on it. If you're actually going try to get a look at the Divine Essence, count me in."
"And me, too," said Clayith, still giving an odd grin.
Vorden was thoughtful for a moment. "You're a good friend, Jerret. And Clayith's alright, I guess."
"I wouldn't tell on you," said Clayith, with a chuckle. His grin broadened. "I like you, Vorden."
Vorden laughed. "I'll think it over, and let you know later."
"Vorden, I already told you…" said Lannon. His words sounded weak, and he knew his resolve had crumbled some. But if he ended up agreeing to go, the thought of taking two more Squires along did not please him at all. He could trust Vorden and Timlin, and possibly even Aldreya, yet he knew little about these two Squires-especially Jerret, who seemed somewhat cocky and was hard to figure out. Clayith, however, had always struck Lannon as being exceptionally polite, kind-hearted, and shy. Lannon had liked him from the first moment he'd met him at the training grounds. Yet could he be trusted? There was no way of knowing at this time.
"At least consider it, Lannon," said Vorden. "You know we can't do this without you-if there is actually a wheel lock down there. So if you don't go, the whole thing is done with. I want to go, and so do Jerret, Clayith, and Aldreya."
"And me!" whispered Timlin, from the doorway. "From what you said, it doesn't sound very dangerous-if it's just beneath the Temple."
"We'll see," Lannon said reluctantly. Again he glanced about, still feeling like they were being watched. Here they were, in the Library, discussing a plan to violate the Sacred Laws-with two more Squires eager to jump in on the action. The whole situation seemed very risky and ready to blow up in their faces. Couldn't Vorden see that, or had his desire to visit the Divine Essence become so strong it had clouded his judgment?
"We can talk about it tomorrow," mumbled Lannon, experiencing a deep urge to get away from this scene. "But don't get your hopes up, Vorden."
With that, Lannon left the library and headed upstairs. As he passed through the shadowy halls, a deep sadness and anxiety filled him. What had happened to his dreams of being a valiant Knight in a grand kingdom? Where was the nobility and the glory? He'd been here less than a year, and already he'd become a law-breaker in a kingdom where things seemed to be falling apart (if one could believe the countless rumors). He felt isolated and detached, floating free and lacking direction. He had always imagined Dremlock would be a place where everything was in solid order, where everyone knew where they stood and laws and rules were set in stone. Now he was seeing a place where the darkness and light seemed melded together, where devious plots were hatched while Knights were too busy or too reluctant to take notice. It disturbed him to think of what they had gotten away with so easily already. What else was going on here that went unnoticed by the Tower Masters? Just how deeply had Dremlock decayed?
The answer seemed to come to him later that night in a dream. He dreamt of the kingdom, and it appeared Dremlock was balanced on the edge of a dagger, with the flames of doom burning on either side. The wind howled down the mountainside, bringing winter's breath and blowing it into his soul. The snow became as thick as the Northern Hills, and shards of ice the size of continents shifted about, changing the face of the land. The ice became unstable, cracking and lurching, creating pockets deep within the stone, earth, snow, and mossy ruin. From out of that ice came a shadowy hand, reaching out over the land and growing ever larger.
"I am the Child of Winter," a voice said. "I lived even before the world was warmed, when nothing existed but the timeless ice."
For a moment Lannon was helpless within that grasp. All the struggles of life seemed pointless, and he longed for things to return to the purity and timelessness of before which the voice spoke of. Then the infinite darkness swallowed him and he realized the Shadow was indeed deeper than he could have ever imagined, even deeper than despair itself. There could be no return from such a void.
Eyes appeared in the darkness, crazed and piercing, burning into his soul. The eyes seemed all too familiar, and then he remembered the statue upon the hilltop, amid the ruins of Serenlock Castle. They were the eyes of Tenneth Bard, the Black Knight. A hand, bound in a steel gauntlet, reached forth to claim Lannon's soul.
"I've come for you, Lannon," Tenneth Bard whispered. "Soon you will wish you had died down there in Old Keep."
***