The ringing of hammers against metal vibrated in Lannon's ears, and the heat quickly made him sweat. He leaned against a weapon rack to steady himself, but Taris motioned him impatiently along.
Cordus Landsaver, the Lord Knight of Dremlock, and Furlus Goblincrusher, the West Tower Master, were gathered near a furnace, where a curly-haired man dressed only in ragged trousers was chained to the side of it. The furnace was blazing, and the heat should have severely burned him, but he seemed relaxed and was actually smiling. On one of his hands, a bulky metal gauntlet gleamed in the torchlight, the fingers twitching.
Cordus nodded to Taris, then frowned. "Why are the other Squires here?"
"Lannon needs them," said Taris, shrugging.
Lannon shrank back. The fellow in chains was gazing at him with insane glee, while his bizarre metal glove wiggled its fingers. Lannon glanced at Vorden and saw that his face was pale. Timlin's body trembled, but he held his ground.
"You've brought the little fool," the chained man said. He threw back his head and laughed, then said, "Bring him closer."
"Stay where you are, Lannon," Cordus commanded. The Lord Knight's dark, tangled hair and beard seemed particularly unkempt. His face looked tired. He wore his shining breastplate which was adorned with an image of the three great towers that made up Dremlock Kingdom, and his sword was drawn. "I'm sure Taris explained to you that this man is possessed and very dangerous."
"The fire actually gives him strength," said Furlus. "Just so you lads know, we didn't chain him there to torture him. He seemed to be dying and kept pleading with us to put him near flame." The strongest Knight in Dremlock held his heavy battle axe in one hand, and his eyes never left the chained man. Like Cordus, he wore his armor in spite of the heat. His eyes-set beneath drooping brows-smoldered like the flames of the furnace.
"I cannot understand how he resists the heat," Cordus said. "Such power seems impossible. How can one withstand fire for hours at a time?"
Lannon struggled to steady his nerves. "What…what should I do?"
"Use the Eye of Divinity, of course," said Taris, "I'll see to it that no harm befalls you." He placed his hand on Lannon's shoulder.
"Yes, use your Eye," said the chained man. "I want you to use it on me. My name is Vellera, by the way. And you're Lannon-with the dramatic Knightly last name of Sunshield. Actually, it's kind of weak. Couldn't you have chosen Skullsplitter or Bonebreaker or something?"
"So why have you come to Dremlock?" Lannon asked.
Vellera winked at Lannon. "Death and destruction."
"We've already questioned him," said Furlus, waving his hand impatiently. "He won't tell us his true purpose."
"I won't tell you, Dwarf," Vellera said. "Your ugly beard and fat belly offends me. But I find the boy to be more of what I consider pleasant company." He focused his gaze on Lannon. "I came here to destroy Dremlock-and I did reveal that. But I have another purpose as well. My purpose is to destroy you, Lannon. That's why I want you to use the Eye of Divinity on me, so I can slay you."
"Maybe you're the one who will be slain!" snarled Vorden, stepping forward and raising his sword. "How dare you threaten my friend?"
"Vorden!" Cordus growled, shoving him back. "You shall remain silent and know your place, Squire. This is for Lannon to deal with."
"I'm sorry, Master Cordus," said Vorden.
Lannon's legs weakened beneath him. Somehow, he knew Vellera wasn't lying-that he did intend to kill Lannon. He glanced helplessly at Taris.
Taris squeezed Lannon's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't believe his lies, Lannon. This Vellera is a servant of the Deep Shadow. He is no doubt terrified that you will learn his secrets, and he is trying to frighten you into giving up. You think Vellera is speaking the truth about his intentions, but bear in mind that the Deep Shadow is working through him to convince you that his words are true."
"I understand," said Lannon. He did indeed understand, but that knowledge failed to calm his terror. "So why do you want to kill me?"
"The power you possess, of course," said Vellera. "You see too much. Therefore, you must die. Once you are slain, Dremlock will fall. The demon that rules over me grants me unlimited power, as you will soon learn. The Knights of Dremlock are no match for me. I will slay them all. And then Tharnin will deal with your so-called god, that pathetic creature you call the Divine Essence."
Lannon focused on holding his ground, on acting like a Knight and not a coward. It took all of his willpower, but he managed to fight off his fears and convince himself he would use the Eye of Divinity.
"You Knights have brought terrible suffering to my realm," said Vellera, his face contorting in anger. "How many tears have been wept over the actions of Dremlock? This kingdom, with its perverse god and murderous legion of Knights, will soon pay for the centuries of bloodshed."
"You speak of the killing of lowly Goblins," said Furlus. "Mindless monsters that refuse to let humans live in peace. We have no choice but to slay them."
"You have a choice!" Vellera shouted. "You could choose to let this world be absorbed by the realm of Tharnin, and then all would be peaceful. Instead you make war on us-endless, terrible war."
The metal gauntlet clenched into a fist. Two blue stones embedded in it glowed with a cold light. "But the war is coming to an end. Know this-I have become the Hand of Tharnin. Alone, I will crush this kingdom and leave nothing but bones and rubble."
"I've heard enough of this vile ranting!" snarled Cordus. "Lannon, summon the Eye and lay bare his secrets."
Lannon struggled hard to call forth his power, and at last he felt his consciousness divide in two. The Eye of Divinity surged forth and probed Vellera, but all Lannon could see was writhing darkness. He hesitated, unsure of what to do.
"Tell us what you see!" Taris said, clutching his shoulder.
"Nothing," said Lannon, shaking his head. "Just shadows."
"You must try harder," said Taris. "Focus!"
Lannon probed deep into the man, and the shroud of darkness fell away to reveal raging flames. Vellera was burning within, a fiery presence that emanated deep hatred toward Lannon. It was like a wall of flames engulfing something too terrible to imagine.
As Lannon watched helplessly, unable to move, the metal gauntlet burst through the wall of fire and closed around Lannon's throat. The gauntlet possessed a horrific strength that should have crushed Lannon's throat with ease, but he instinctively used the Eye of Divinity to shield himself.
For a moment, Lannon struggled fiercely to keep the metal hand from strangling him, but he was quickly losing ground. He could feel the fingers tightening down, closing off his windpipe.
Then a flash of light erupted and Lannon's mind was plunged into a darkness so heavy he wasn't sure he would ever awaken.
Chapter 3: Jace the Wanderer
When Lannon awoke, he was in the Hall of Healing. He tried to sit up, but one of the healers-a lean man with wavy red hair-hurried over and urged him to stay lying down. The White Knight gazed at Lannon with concern. "You need more rest, Squire," he said, "or your legs will surely buckle beneath you. Your strength has not yet returned."
"What happened to me?" asked Lannon. He had no concept of time. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"For about a week," said the White Knight.
Lannon was stunned by the news. "An entire week, asleep?"
"Well, not asleep," said the healer, "in the sense you're familiar with. You were able to eat and drink, but your mind was in a state of darkness. You were nearly killed by dark sorcery. If it hadn't been for Taris Warhawk, you surely would have died. Sadly, Taris suffered severe burns, but he is expected to recover."