“Of course, I offered to bring them both through to join me, but he wouldn't hear of it. Better dead than living like an animal, he told me scornfully.
“Every day I watched as new storms came through the Beyond, each a little less severe than the last. Fortunately none of these hit near me, and I waited them out in relative comfort and safety.
“Two weeks passed. The towering Shadow-storms had all but ceased, though tiny squalls continued. When I tried to reach Conner, I suddenly got no response. Freda told me she feared what might happen if she ever left her aunt's house. An angry mob had tried to drive her out the day before.
“That was the last time I talked to her. The next day, I couldn't reach her anymore. I assumed she had been killed or arrested, too, like Conner. I would probably be next.
“Another week passed. Loneliness finally got the better of me, I couldn't hide in the ruins for the rest of my life. I had to go out and see what had happened.
“Shapeshifting has never come easily to me, but I changed my features as best I could. Disguised as an old man, I returned to the Courts to see what I could learn.
“When I arrived, a strange mood hung over the streets—anxious, apprehensive, and most of all afraid. People in the streets and plazas stood in small knots, talking and looking around apprehensively. I half expected guards and soldiers to appear, dispersing the crowds, but none did.
“And, as I walked, I couldn't help but notice all the damage. Many buildings had collapsed from the force of the earthquakes and the storms. Giant stones—the kind normally found in the wildest parts of Chaos—nosed among the wreckage like grazing cattle. Women cried and men searched among the debris for loved ones.
“I wandered slowly through the Courts, pausing now and then as I caught interesting bits of conversation. Everyone seemed to be voicing the same thoughts:
“'Dworkin betrayed Chaos.'
“'How many more storms will Dworkin send to destroy us?'
“'Dworkin must be stopped.'
“As I got closer to the palace, I noticed a distinct change in the tone. Instead of 'How will the king stop Dworkin?' it became, 'The king can't protect us anymore. Someone else must!'
“At any other time, such words would have been treason. And to hear well-respected citizens openly saying such things in the streets! Incredible!
“When I got to the palace, I found the gates shut and barred. Grim-faced guards stood at all the entrances, swords out. I tried not to stare, but they were so preoccupied with watching the crowds that they wouldn't have noticed me anyway.
“Then I noticed two severed heads hanging from the spikes to either side of the gates… Mattus and Titus. Signs hung from both—BORN OF A TRAITOR. A coldness touched my heart. King Uthor must have executed them to try to appease the crowds. Only it hadn't worked. Everyone wanted Dad's blood. Nothing else would satisfy them at this point.
“And, I realized, if anyone caught me here, I would probably share their fate.
“At least no other grisly trophies decorated the gates. Perhaps Freda and all the others were still alive in one of the dungeons. I could only hope.
“With no place to go and no plan in mind except to stay alive as long as possible, I went to a small tavern I knew and settled in at a corner of the bar. As I sipped a beer, I listened with interest to all the gossip and talk of Uthor's failings around me. No one mentioned any family members other than Dad—and they mostly cursed his name.
“Then they began to speculate about what the king would—or wouldn't—do to protect Chaos. Several people openly said King Uthor ought to step down in favor of one of his sons.
“'He's too old,' one man said.
“'He cares more for his palaces than his people,' said another, nodding.
“Everyone echoed those sentiments. Then talk turned to how Dad ought to be killed when he finally got caught. Slowly grinding him to mincemeat, starting with his toes, seemed the most creative solution.
“Finishing my drink, I left, and once more wandered the streets. If anything, the crowds had grown larger, and the mood had grown darker. A new storm seemed to be coming: the air had grown darker, and a strange pressure filled the air, just like it had back home in the Beyond. You could feel the people's tension mounting.
“Finally, the lai she'one appeared. They marched toward the largest groups of people, shouting: 'Clear the streets! By the king's order—clear the streets now! Back to your homes or you will be arrested!'
“No one dared protest, but many men gave them angry looks, and I noticed a few fingering their swords or knives. If any had dared start trouble, I think the crowds would have rioted.
“But everyone began to disperse. In twenty minutes, the streets grew relatively empty—the few people still out moving with purpose on personal errands.
“I turned away from the others and took shelter in the ruins of a once grand home. I found a corner where two corner walls and part of the second floor still stood and took shelter just as the storm struck.
“It wasn't nearly as bad as any of the storms I had seen in the Beyond. The walls and ground shook; colors ran into puddles at my feet, and lights played weird tricks on my eyes—glowing and pulsing, they came in waves that left me disoriented and confused.
“When stones fell from the crumbling walls, I crawled under a table. That kept me safe for the next hour.
“The storm passed quickly. By the time I felt well enough to crawl out from the wreckage of the house, criers wandered the streets, shouting the latest news and proclamations—fifteen thousand dead, the hunt for Dad going on, another son of Dworkin captured. I wondered who it could be.
“In Triffig Square, an angry mob burned Dad in effigy. I had never seen so many people out for blood. Our blood.
“I spent another week in the Courts, carefully keeping up my disguise. I listened to the news and kept to myself. Several times people tried to contact me by Trump, but I ignored them. With so many sets of Trumps now in King Uthor's hands, I could not trust anyone.
“Subtly, I made enquiries of old friends, feeling them out for their loyalties. They had all turned against us. I had no one to fall back on for help. At night, I tried several times to contact family members… you, Blaise, Freda, Conner. I even tried Dad a few times. I knew Dad was still free, from all the rumors circulating about him putting together an army to attack Chaos. But he never answered.
“Unfortunately, the stress of keeping up my disguise proved too great. My control over my new face slipped one day as I was walking through the streets by the palace—I tried to go every day, to see if any more family members had been executed. When my old face returned, someone must have recognized me. The next thing I knew, lai she'one were running toward me, packs of urhounds baying as they picked up my scent, and I had nowhere to hide.
“I fled into the wilder Shadows of Chaos. I used every trick I could think of to hide my trail. I crossed the Beyond, then passed through the Gates of Stygia and into Ellysiom. I rode the back of a wild stone through the Mad Lands, and passed through Lyric's Furnace. The heat seared me half to death, and still they followed.
“If not for the urhounds, I probably would have escaped. But they had my scent and wouldn't let go. No matter how far or how fast I fled, their baying voices came behind me.