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‘They’re waiting in the courtyard,’ said Gravis nervously. ‘They’re asking for you.’

‘Alsadair is with them?’ asked Aric as they walked briskly together through the hall.

‘Alsadair is with them!’ pronounced Gravis happily. He laughed, hardly believing it. ‘That wily bastard — he found them!’

Aric could barely contain his glee. How many months had it been since he’d parted with Lukien? It seemed a lifetime ago, and more than once he had doubted to ever face his friend again. He had a thousand things to tell Lukien, but right now all he wanted was to see the knight and embrace him. As a curious crowd began gathering around the main hall, Aric and Gravis pushed their way toward the courtyard, at last stepping through the castle’s portcullis into the cobblestone yard. At least a dozen Nithin soldiers were already there, all of them chattering as they crowded around the centre of the yard where — presumably — Lukien and his cohorts waited. Aric craned his neck for a better view, but all he could see over the heads of the people were a group of horses, their saddles empty. He cleared his throat to no avail, asking politely for the soldiers to move aside. Annoyed, Gravis made no such attempt.

‘Out of the way!’ barked the minister, grabbing one man by the shoulder and shoving him aside. ‘Clear off!’

Whatever magic his voice held, the soldiers parted when they heard it, moving to the sides of the courtyard to reveal a foursome of bewildered men. Aric grinned when he saw them, his eyes falling immediately on Lukien, who looked around with confusion. At last the knight’s probing gaze fell on Aric, and all at once a giant smile lit his face.

‘Aric!’ he cried. Gleefully he bolted forward, arms outstretched. Behind him, the Nithin soldier Alsadair was laughing. Lukien rushed to Aric, grabbing him in both hands. ‘Aric! Gods above, it’s you!’

‘It’s me, Lukien,’ laughed Aric. He let Lukien’s strong arms encircle him. ‘I can’t believe you’re here!’

The two men embraced for a long moment, each of them choked with surprising emotion. To Aric, Lukien looked like a changed man, wearied by whatever quest had taken him away. When at last they pulled apart, Aric stole a glance at Lukien’s weathered face. The knight nodded solemnly.

‘It’s been a hard road,’ he said.

Aric sighed and touched his shoulder. ‘You’re here now. You can rest.’ He smiled at Lukien’s companions. ‘All of you.’

Alsadair pushed the other two forward. One was an older man, big and fierce looking. The other, smaller man, wore desert wrappings around his face and gloves along his wiry hands. Only his two grey eyes peered out from his scarves, jumping with excitement. Aric studied them both, thinking them equally peculiar.

‘Welcome,’ he told them. ‘I’m Aric Glass.’ He gestured toward Gravis, still beside him. ‘This is Minister Gravis. He runs things here for Prince Daralor.’

Gravis bowed to them slightly. ‘Welcome to Nith,’ he said smoothly. ‘We have been waiting for you.’

Alsadair stepped up to them, bowing to Gravis and losing his giddy grin. ‘Gravis, this is Lukien of Liiria. These others are his companions, from Jador.’

Gravis smiled at him. ‘Well done indeed, Alsadair. We have waited for you as well. We are proud of you.’

Alsadair swelled at the compliment. ‘I should like to take them to Prince Daralor myself,’ he said.

Gravis shook his white head. ‘The prince is in Yaroo province,’ he said, ‘and won’t be back until the morrow.’

The news deflated Alsadair. ‘Oh. .’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Aric cheerfully. There was nothing that could spoil his good mood. ‘You’re here now, that’s what matters.’ His gaze dropped to Lukien’s belt. ‘And you found the sword.’

As though they all knew what Aric meant, the crowd fell quiet. Lukien gently patted the weapon at his side, a great blade resting in a threadbare scabbard. ‘I have found it, Aric.’

Aric felt a charge. ‘The serpent kingdom?’

‘It exists,’ said Lukien. ‘The sword was there, waiting for me.’

‘Amazing,’ Aric sighed. ‘I must see it. But first. .’ He gestured for the others to come closer. ‘Introduce your friends, Lukien.’

‘I am Ghost,’ said the one with the head scarves. He bounded forward like a child. ‘And I am not a Jadori.’

‘No?’ said Aric, confused. ‘What are you, then?’

‘I am an Inhuman,’ pronounced the man, who Aric guessed was young. ‘Do you know what that means?’

‘Easy,’ counseled Lukien.

Ghost laughed. ‘Oh, let me show them, Lukien. These brave people are helping us! Let them see that we are not ourselves helpless.’

Lukien sighed as though he had seen the young man’s performance before. ‘Very well,’ he said with a wave. ‘Watch him closely, Aric.’

Aric puzzled over the young man, waiting. The rest of the crowd did the same.

‘They call me Ghost,’ declared the stranger, ‘because I can simply disappear.’

And then he was gone. Aric gasped. Astonished, the crowd stepped back. The stranger’s laugh bounced through the courtyard.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Gravis. His serious face turned red with anger. ‘What’s this trickery?’

‘No trick,’ said the young man’s disembodied voice. ‘Magic!’

The astounded soldiers looked at Alsadair, but the Nithin merely smiled. ‘It’s what he does,’ he offered sheepishly. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’

‘It’s witchery!’ said Gravis.

Lukien rolled his eyes. ‘Show yourself, Ghost,’ he ordered.

The stranger popped back into view, this time standing right beside Aric, who jumped as he felt his arm around his shoulder.

‘What?’ Aric blurted. He looked at Lukien then back at the stranger. ‘What is this?’

‘Don’t be afraid,’ said Ghost with an audible smile. ‘I’m an Inhuman. Surely Lukien has told you what that means.’

Aric had only a vague idea. Uncomfortable, he squirmed out of the man’s grasp, then looked at the older man. ‘And what do you do?’ he asked. ‘Fly?’

The crowd laughed, even Minister Gravis. But the man with the fierce eyes merely shrugged. ‘Nothing so extravagant,’ he said. His answer left

mystery in the air. Lukien stepped between the man and Aric.

‘This is Lorn,’ said Lukien. ‘I’ll tell you about him later.’

‘Alright,’ agreed Aric. He laughed again, too pleased from seeing his old friend to let anything worry him. ‘Let’s go inside. You need to rest.’

‘And to eat,’ said the one called Ghost. ‘We’ve had nothing but Lorn’s cooking for months.’

Two hours later, Lukien found himself seated at a long table beneath a chandelier lit with glowing candles. The table had been set with fine silverware and crystal goblets full of wine and beer. Platters of steaming food and breads covered the linen tablecloth. Lukien and his cohorts had rested, the Nithin servants falling over themselves to make the strangers comfortable. Alsadair had said his goodbye’s to them, rushing off to see the family he had left behind so many months earlier. While Lukien and the others refreshed themselves, Aric disappeared until their supper was ready, reappearing in the splendid banquet hall to unveil the treasures the kitchen had cooked up for them. Minister Gravis, sure that the old friends wanted to be alone, excused himself from the feast, leaving just the four of them — Lukien, Ghost, Lorn and Aric — to enjoy the meal and catch up on all the news they had for each other.