The Divided Knight - Chapter Fifteen

The Wanderer had been an unwilling guest in the Guardian's dwelling for more than a week, now. In other circumstances, he would have thought himself a prisoner, but the Guardian did not treat him as a gaoler would have. During his stay in the construct's dwelling, the Wanderer had been well fed, had been provided a comfortable bed on which to sleep, and had even been treated on most evenings to engaging – and, sometimes, even enlightening – conversation. Despite all of that, however, the Wanderer had been forbidden to leave, and that rankled at him – not once in the last twenty years had the Wanderer ever stayed in one place more than a few days, and the longer the Guardian forced him to stay here, the more restless he became. Why doesn't he just let me answer the challenge and be done with it? Even if I fail, death would be a better alternative to just staying here and doing nothing.

Not for the first time, the Wanderer found himself wondering why he had agreed to go on the ridiculous quest the idiot monks at the abbey had given him. Was he really that desperate to be reunited with his other half? In fact, hadn't he told Zoe once that, if he ever ran into the man who had been allowed to use his true name, he'd kill him? And now I can't even do that. Not as long as I'm a “guest” under the roof of a construct who has outlived his own usefulness.

“Your food is growing cold.”

The Guardian did not live in his dwelling alone. A number of Sprites – the Wanderer was positive there was more than one, though he couldn't be certain since, as long as he remained under the Guardian's roof, he could neither sense nor wield magic – lived with him, and it seemed that they were the ones who had the actual responsibility of taking care of anyone else who happened to spend time there.

“I'm not hungry,” the Wanderer said to the Sprite. He turned his head to look at it. “When will your master be returning? He's been gone an awfully long time.”

“He will return when he returns,” the Sprite said. “Please, you must eat.”

The Wanderer smiled. “I said I wasn't hungry. Tell me, Sprite, why is it your master chose to go out this evening? Surely there aren't any travelers foolhardy enough to be coming this way.”

The Sprite twitched a bit in agitation. “I'm sorry, sir, but I've been forbidden from answering questions like that one.”

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow. “Forbidden, eh? Interesting. And I'm sure your master will punish you severely if you do answer. Am I correct in that assessment?”

The Sprite said nothing, though it continued to twitch.

The Wanderer laughed and shook his head, lifting his mug off the table he sat at and taking a swig of Telvan brandy. “You Sprites are useless creatures. Too smart for your own good, but also too weak and eager to please. It's no wonder the Torvarans forbade their mages from making contact with you. You would have infested their council like a plague of rats.”

“We would have done no such thing!”

The Wanderer grinned at the indignation in the creature's tinny voice. “What would you have done, then?”

“What we have always done. Taught. Counseled. Nurtured.”

“I'm sure.” The Wanderer took another drink. “And it would have worked just as well with them as it did with the Eltarans.”

“It would have been better. It would have!”

Deep down, a part of the Wanderer knew that it was wrong to wind the poor creature up like he was. Sprites were, after all, mostly harmless, and nothing the Wanderer had ever read or heard supported the stories that it was them who had led the Eltarans to their final doom. But who was he to ever listen to the better angels of his nature? Doing that would only make him weak and indecisive, not to mention take the fun out of everything. If the Wanderer ever did meet his other self, he would have to ask him what it was like to have a conscience. It had to be a miserable existence – one the Wanderer would have no qualms about ending.

“You look sad.”

The Wanderer looked up from his mug of brandy and scowled at the Sprite. “Get out of my sight,” he growled.

The Sprite twitched one final time, then vanished, leaving a brief afterimage in its wake. The Wanderer stared at where it had been for a few moments, then shook his head and downed the rest of his brandy. What could a Sprite, a being of magic that was hardly sentient at all, possibly know about how he felt? What could anyone?

A short time later, the Wanderer heard the scraping sounds that announced the door into the Guardian's dwelling was being opened. He immediately stood and went into the other room, coming up short when he saw the two people who stepped inside ahead of the Guardian's massive form. The auburn-haired woman, dressed in plain traveling clothes but still, somehow, looking to him like the most beautiful woman in the entire universe, was Zoe. The man at her side, who was a good foot taller than she was, and wore a blue tabard with the symbol of the True emblazoned on its front, caused the Wanderer's lips to draw up in a snarl.

“What are you doing here?” the Wanderer asked, addressing Zoe. He pointed at Thaddeus. “And why is he with you?”

“You will not address anyone under my roof with an uncivil tongue, Wanderer,” the Guardian said, the door of the dwelling scraping closed behind him. “They are here to answer my challenge. Just as you are. And, like you, if they answer it to my satisfaction, they will be allowed passage into the Elder Land.”

“You were told he would be coming,” Zoe said. “And I told you he might not be alone.”

“All right, then. Fine.” The Wanderer lowered himself into the nearest chair, which, like everything else in the dwelling, was made of stone. “Let's get this over with so that we can be on our way.”

“You are not being civil, Wanderer,” the Guardian rumbled. He gestured at Zoe and Thaddeus. “You will treat them with the same respect that they will treat you. OR YOU WILL CONSIDER THE CHALLENGE FORFEIT!”

It was the first time the Guardian had raised his voice since bringing the Wanderer into the dwelling, and it made the ground shake. The blue glow in the construct's eyes grew brighter, and it seemed he grew taller, the top of his head nearly making contact with the dwelling's ceiling. Curiously, the Wanderer was aware that only he could see these changes, that, illusion or not, they were meant solely for him. And, for reasons he couldn't fathom, that fact frightened him.

“I . . . I'm sorry,” the Wanderer said. “I will do as you say. I will treat them with respect so long as they treat me the same.”

“THEY WILL.” Abruptly, the Guardian returned to its normal appearance. “You have not eaten, have you?”

All at once, the Wanderer realized he was famished. “No.”

“Good. You shall all share a meal together, then.” The Guardian started toward the room the Wanderer had just come out of. “Come.”

The three of them ate in silence. From time to time during the meal, the Wanderer would look across the table at Thaddeus, hoping not to be seen, but always finding Thaddeus looking back at him. The first couple of times this happened, the Wanderer felt his anger threaten to boil over, his memory of the Guardian's admonishment the only thing that kept it from doing so. After those first couple of times, however, he felt his anger start to lessen, its place being taken by a budding curiosity. How truly different from him was Thaddeus? Had the hatred the Wanderer had felt toward him these last twenty years been truly justified? And where – where – had Thaddeus gotten the Eltaran sword he wore strapped across his back?

“That sword you have,” the Wanderer said after a Sprite – was it the same one he had spoken with, earlier? – had come and cleared away their plates. “How did you come by it?”

Thaddeus stared at him for a moment before answering. “It was given to me,” he said.

“Really? By whom?”

Thaddeus said nothing, his face – a mirror image of the Wanderer's – expressionless.

The Wanderer smiled crookedly. “Did you know that it's a Scourger? Those were always rare, even back when Eltaran Blades were fairly common.”

“He knows,” Zoe said, nervousness in her voice.

“The stories I've heard about you say you help people,” Thaddeus said, his tone doubtful.

The Wanderer's smile grew even more lopsided. “Oh, I've helped a few here and there. Poor sots who got lost in places people with any sense at all would know they never should have been. They're lucky I'm a generous soul, or I would have charged them for the trouble.”

“You wouldn't have done that,” Zoe said.

The Wanderer turned his smile toward her. “Oh, wouldn't I?”

“No. It's not in your nature. I know that, and so do you.”

“You don't know anything about me, Zoe. Not anymore.”

Zoe's expression hardened, and, for the first time since she had entered the Guardian's dwelling, the Wanderer noticed that there was something . . . different . . . about her. “I know everything about you,” she said. She rested her hand on Thaddeus's arm. “Just as I know everything about him. I made you, remember? Both of you.”

“Oh, I remember. I also remember the damnable hex you put on me afterward. The one that makes it so I can't even use my own name! I used to love you, Zoe! Gods Above curse me, I still do! Why would you do such a thing? Why?”

“He has a point, Zoe,” Thaddeus said, looking at her. “He has just as much right to my name as I do.”

Zoe looked back at Thaddeus, and, suddenly, her expression was no longer so hard. “But he isn't you!” she said. “Can't you see that?”

“But he is me,” Thaddeus said, and the Wanderer could hardly believe what he was hearing. “And I am him. He is the parts of me I lost when you created us, and I am the parts of him he lost.”

“What did you lose from him? You're kind. You're rational. You're sense of humor isn't cruel, and you don't revel in violence. You're a better person without him, Thaddeus!”

“No, Zoe,” Thaddeus said, giving her a sad smile, “I'm not. Without him, I sometimes doubt myself, and I'm sometimes indecisive about what actions I should take. That doesn't happen often, but, when it does – like it did when the Conclave was destroyed – people die. If I had been whole back then, none of what has happened since would have. I could have killed Garris Galgana before he ever had the chance to be subsumed by Atraxos the Black.”

“Atraxos the Black?” the Wanderer said, but no one else seemed to hear him.

“You don't know that, Thaddeus,” Zoe said.

“Yes, I do, Zoe,” Thaddeus said. “And I think you do, too. If you don't, then the Abbott inside of you does.”

“The Abbott?” the Wanderer said, but, again, no one else seemed to hear him.

“But he's . . . he's . . . he's so vile,” Zoe said.

“Vile he may be, Healer,” the Guardian said, “but the Knight speaks the truth. Their divided soul must be made whole, once again, if you are to succeed in your task. Thus is the challenge I put forth. Not for the Wanderer. Not for the Knight. For you. Unite what is divided, and passage to the Elder Land will be granted.”

A stunned silence fell in the room. The Wanderer shared a look with Thaddeus, who then looked to Zoe. When Zoe's eyes met the Wanderer's, he felt a thrill at the determination he saw there. But what could she actually do? What the Guardian had just asked of her was impossible, a fact the Wanderer was sure Zoe was well aware of.

“Zoe,” the Wanderer said, “you know as well as I do why the spell you used to divide us was forbidden. It can't be reversed.”

“Conventional thinking, Wanderer,” the Guardian said. “I suggest you let her try. Lady Zoe is no longer a simple cleric.”

“She isn't,” Thaddeus said. “She carries the powers of the Abbott within her, now, and they've already allowed her to do things normal clerics wouldn't be able to. Right now, I think it's safe to say that all bets are off when it comes to things that should or should not be possible.”

The Wanderer looked at Zoe for a moment, considering. “There's a lot about what's happening I don't understand,” he said at last. “I don't like not understanding things. There's one thing, though, that seems pretty clear to me. The nature of the quest you gave me has changed, hasn't it?”

“Not really changed,” Zoe said, “though it has become what we hoped and prayed it wouldn't. Atraxos the Black has reemerged, and he knows the location of the Amulet of Adarion – the well of power we sent you to secure. We have to try and get to it before he does, which means I have to be able to reunite you and Thaddeus. And not just because doing so will satisfy the Guardian's challenge. Having you whole and in control of the full extent of your abilities will make you the most powerful mage since Solanas the Elder, and there is a possibility you could be even more powerful than he was.”

“She speaks truthfully,” the Guardian said. He turned his blue gaze on Zoe, his voice taking on a note of regret. “I have placed the fate of worlds on your shoulders with my challenge, Healer. Please forgive me. I had no choice.”

Zoe returned the Guardian's gaze. “There is nothing to forgive. Each of us must play the parts that are given to us.” She turned her head away and closed her eyes.

Almost as soon as Zoe closed her eyes, a glowing, yellow nimbus of radiant energy appeared around her. Abruptly, the Wanderer could sense magic, again, though when he tried to reach out for it and craft a spell, he felt it being pulled away from him, siphoned from him and into Zoe like water being drawn from a well. It was also being drawn from Thaddeus, he noticed, and from the Guardian's dwelling – it was even being drawn from the Guardian, himself, a fact announced when the construct's eyes winked out. As Zoe drew more and more magic into herself, the nimbus around her grew brighter, and, as it grew brighter, she began to sway back and forth. At first, she only swayed slightly, but, as the moments passed, her swaying grew faster, and, as she swayed, her lips began to move.

The Wanderer knew Zoe's lips formed the words of a spell, but he could not hear them as they were spoken. A sound like roaring wind filled his ears, blocking out everything else, and he found he could no longer move, his whole body rooted to the spot as if he had become one with the stone chair he sat upon. From deep within himself, a voice tried to tell the Wanderer that he should be panicking, that he should be doing something to stop what was happening, that what was happening would change him forever and that, afterward, he would never again be who he was, but he found he could ignore it, pushing it aside until, at last, it began to quieten, smothered and beaten down by the sheer awe the Wanderer began to feel as Zoe's spell took hold.

It started with the Wanderer hearing thoughts in his head that weren't his own – they were Thaddeus's, which, he realized at once, were frantic, chaotic, and panicked. If Thaddeus couldn't be made to calm down, Zoe's spell would never work, and would no doubt wind up killing all three of them. But, at the same moment the Wanderer started hearing Thaddeus's thoughts, Thaddeus began hearing his, as well, and, all at once, Thaddeus began to grow calmer. As Thaddeus calmed, his frantic thoughts filled with the same awe the Wanderer felt, and it was that awe that became the stitching which started to knit them together. Soon, the Wanderer began having difficulty telling where his thoughts ended and Thaddeus's began, and did it seem, as he looked at him, that Thaddeus's form was beginning to grow less and less distinct, that it was beginning to fade away?

The Wanderer suddenly began to experience memories of events he had never participated in. He saw what life had been like for a Holy Knight of the Conclave, and he saw what it had been like to see the other Knights – along with the mages they had been sworn to protect – fall to the Order of the Crimson Serpent. He met with the spirit of Solanas the Elder as it set him on his journey, and he felt the anger at learning the truth about why he had been sent away from the abbey. He felt love for Zoe – pure love that, despite what he learned about her, never became tainted with resentment – and he felt the thrill of learning that love was returned, a thrill so sweet that, had he not been paralyzed, it would have made him weep. I love her, he thought. And she loves me!

Suddenly, the roar in the Wanderer's ears died down, and he found that he could once again move. Looking down at himself, he saw that he wore a blue tabard with the symbol of the True emblazoned on it. There was a sword strapped to his back, and he felt something – Aylander! – touch his thoughts from within it. He looked up, blinking – why were his cheeks wet? – and saw that the chair across the table from him, the one that had been Thaddeus's, was empty. Of course it's empty. I'm Thaddeus, now. We're Thaddeus, now.

Thaddeus looked at Zoe. “You did it.”

Zoe, who looked to be on the verge of passing out, gave him a weak smile. “Was there ever any doubt?” She pitched forward, but was stopped from hitting the table by the Guardian, who reached out and caught her.

“The Priestess needs sleep, now,” the Guardian said, lifting Zoe in his arms as he moved to stand. “As do you, Battlemage.”

Battlemage. Thaddeus found he liked the sound of that. “Priestess?” he asked. Gods Above, he was exhausted.

“Rest, now. I will answer your questions once you have rested.” The Guardian left the room.

There had been a single bed in the room the Guardian took Zoe to. It had been a comfortable bed, one Thaddeus both had and had not slept in for more than a week, but it had only been large enough for one person. No matter, he thought. There's probably another one in there, now. And, if there isn't, I'm sure Zoe wouldn't mind snuggling a little.

I never thought I'd hear such a thought coming from you, Thaddeus, Aylander said.

Thaddeus chuckled. “Maybe not from the old me,” he said, “but, from the new me, I'd say anything's possible.”

Indeed.

Thaddeus stood and left the room.

The Divided Knight - Chapter Fourteen

Zoe had used her cleric's powers on Thaddeus to heal his broken nose before falling asleep. This had no doubt added to her exhaustion, and Thaddeus was sure she wouldn't remember doing it when she woke up, but the fact that she had done it after having already done so much, after having already pushed her abilities – both old and new – to their limits, spoke volumes about what lengths she was willing to go to. The reason why she had done it – whether it was her personal feelings for him, his importance to the overall goal of stopping Atraxos the Black, or just because he was hurt and she happened to be the nearest healer – didn't matter. Her actions that day had shown Thaddeus that she would stop at nothing to see what needed to be done would be.

You could have no better ally in this, Thaddeus, Aylander said, the first time he had spoken since being forced back into Thaddeus's sword during the encounter with the Lich. Lady Zoe's spirit is indomitable. I doubt anything could break her.

“You seem rather taken with her, Aylander,” Thaddeus muttered.

No more so than someone else I could mention. Someone who happens to be much more alive than I.

Thaddeus looked across the small fire he had built to where Zoe slept. She was snoring softly and there was a small smile on her lips. Thaddeus wanted to reach out to her, to run his fingers gently through her auburn hair, but what would she do if he did? What if the feelings he had for her were his alone, a boyhood crush he had never been able to let go of?

Do you remember her tears back at the abbey, Thaddeus? She was fearful of losing your friendship. You mean a great deal to her.

“She's so much older than I am, Aylander. She has powers I could never dream of having – my other half got all the gifts when it comes to that, it seems – and I'm pretty sure clerics aren't allowed to have those kinds of relationships. No, I need to focus on what's important. I need to focus on finding the Wanderer and stopping Atraxos. I don't have time for anything else.”

Only fools think they have no time for companionship.

Thaddeus looked at Zoe, again. It was amazing she could sleep like that, given what little warmth the fire provided and what little shelter they had in the hollow beneath the crest of the hill from the icy wind that had decided to start howling down at them from the Ivory Spires. “What about you, Aylander?” Thaddeus asked. “Did you have time for companionship back when you were still alive?”

Aylander didn't answer right away, and Thaddeus could feel his sadness and regret when he finally spoke. There was someone, he said. Someone I cared a great deal for. She never knew my feelings, however. I was called away by my duties as one of the True before I could tell her.

“Would your duties as one of the True have prevented you from pursuing her?”

Normally, they would not have. The True were free to marry and pursue whatever relationships they desired. But, when it fell to me to guard the tomb which, at the time, I did not realize imprisoned Atraxos the Black, any freedoms I had were taken from me.

“I'm sorry, Aylander,” Thaddeus said. He was still looking at Zoe. “You should have told her before you left. You still would have been called away, but at least you would have known if she felt the same way about you as you did about her.”

Which is why you must tell Lady Zoe how you feel about her.

Thaddeus nodded. “You're right,” he said. “But I'm afraid.”

As was I. Don't repeat my mistake because of it.

Zoe slept the whole night through, hardly moving the entire time. Shortly before dawn, Thaddeus decided to set a couple of rabbit snares, wanting to see if he could catch them something to eat for breakfast that would be different than their rations. He wound up catching two rabbits – something that surprised him, as signs of game had grown more and more scarce since entering the eastern marches – and was roasting them on spits over the fire when Zoe woke up.

“Thaddeus,” Zoe said, “what are you doing?”

Her voice startled Thaddeus, and when he looked over, he saw Zoe – who didn't look at all like she had just woken up from a deep sleep – staring at the roasting rabbits with an uncertain look on her face. “I'm cooking breakfast,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

Zoe looked up at him with a scowl, then returned her attention to the rabbits, waving her hand in the air above them. Whatever that told her apparently surprised her, judging by the wide-eyed look she gave Thaddeus when she was finished. “These should be tainted,” she said. “They aren't.”

“That's good. I'd hate to have to throw away something that smells so good.” Thaddeus took one of the spits and handed it to Zoe, who eyed it for a moment, then snatched it from his fingers and immediately began wolfing down the rabbit. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Zoe said around a mouthful of food. A bit of grease was starting to run down her chin. “You going to eat yours?”

Thaddeus grinned at her, taking the other spit and starting to eat his own rabbit. After the salted pork of the last two days, the rabbit was delicious, and, surprisingly, Thaddeus finished his before Zoe finished hers. Once both of them were done eating, they used some of their water rations to clean their hands and faces, then Thaddeus snuffed the campfire. Looking out at the land ahead of them, which wasn't as hilly as what lay behind, but was steeper and strewn with boulders, Thaddeus figured it would be after sundown before they reached the true foot of the mountains.

“We lost time, yesterday,” Thaddeus said. He looked at Zoe. “Will it be safe if we have to travel after dark?”

“I can't say for sure,” Zoe said. “Things feel different, today, though, so my guess is that it will be.”

“We're getting low on water.”

Zoe closed her eyes and turned around in a slow circle. “There's a spring at the foot of the mountains,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at Thaddeus. “It's clean. We should be able to refill our waterskins there.”

I told you to have faith, Aylander said, which prompted a sour look from Thaddeus.

“What did he say?” Zoe asked, smiling.

Thaddeus glared at her. “Nothing important.” He started walking, feeling his cheeks flush when he heard Zoe giggle behind him.

They walked in silence, navigating their way around the boulders, each step bringing them closer to the massive, intimidating mountain range that was the Ivory Spires. Clouds hid the sun for most of the day, and the wind, while not as fierce or cold as it had been the night before, buffeted them every time they were in the open. Though they had followed a road – or what was left of one, at least – the last two days, the road had ended at the crest of the hill where they had battled the Lich, and Thaddeus began to wonder how the path they now wound for themselves would serve them once they were well and truly into the mountains.

Did we miss something back at the hill? Thaddeus asked Aylander. Did the road continue on in some way that I failed to notice?

You know that it did not, Aylander said. As for missing something, I am less certain of that. I feel there is something I should be remembering regarding the ways through the Spires, but, no matter how hard I try, it remains lost to me.

Did you ever travel through the Spires when you were alive?

That's the thing, Thaddeus. I clearly remember having done so, but I cannot remember how it was done. I find that extremely frustrating.

“You and me both,” Thaddeus muttered.

“What was that?” Zoe asked.

Thaddeus glanced over his shoulder at her. “Aylander says he's forgetting something about the ways through the mountains.”

“I'm not surprised. The ways through the Ivory Spires are supposed to be protected by constructs called Guardians. According to what I've been able to learn about them, the Guardians wipe the memories of those they allow to pass.”

The Guardians! Aylander said. Of course!

Thaddeus stopped, turning to face Zoe. “And when were you planning on mentioning that?”

For a moment, Zoe stiffened at Thaddeus's tone, then she slumped, looking abashed. “When I needed to?”she said in a small voice.

Thaddeus sighed, rolling his eyes skyward. Then he smiled, looking at Zoe and chuckling. “All right,” he said. “What else can you tell us about these Guardians?”

“They're supposed to be ten feet tall and made out of rock. Other than that, not very much.”

“How do you get passed them?”

You must answer their challenge and prove you are no threat, Aylander said.

And how do we do that?

I do not know. That is part of what I cannot remember.

They continued on. When the sun set a few hours later, they found that they did not have to rely on light from the moon and stars to guide their path – Thaddeus's sword, somehow sensing that it was after dark and that the person who carried it was still on the move, began to glow from within its scabbard. Drawing it, Thaddeus found that that the glow coming from it was about as bright as that of a torch, and so he held it before them, using it to light their way. It was almost three hours passed sunset when they finally reached the foot of the mountains, but, when they got there, the location of the spring Zoe had mentioned was not readily apparent. All they saw in every direction was an all but unbroken wall of rock.

“I can still sense it, and it's close!” Zoe said. “There's no reason we shouldn't be able to see it.”

“Unless something's hiding it from us,” Thaddeus said, sitting on a rock and resting his sword, point down, between his legs.

The rock was large enough for two, and Zoe sat down beside him. “You mean something like the Guardians,” she said.

Thaddeus nodded. “Maybe it's part of their challenge. Hel, maybe it is the challenge, and if you can't answer it successfully, you don't get access to the spring.”

“Which means you die of thirst up here.” Zoe sighed, then looked over at him. “Are you as bloody tired as I am?”

“Probably more than you are. I didn't sleep, last night.”

Thaddeus saw her small smile in the glow from the sword. “I thought that might have been the case,” Zoe said. “Were you worried about me?”

Thaddeus shrugged, looking away from her. “I might have been,” he said.

“You were. I sensed it.”

Thaddeus snorted. “I doubt that. You were more asleep than I've seen anyone.”

“You're right. But I'm also a cleric, and with the Abbott's powers on top of what abilities I already had, it's become easy for me to sense strong emotions, even in the deepest sleep. I felt your concern for me, your need to watch over me as I slept. And, if anything, that made my sleep even more peaceful than it already was.” Zoe reached over and put her hand on Thaddeus's shoulder. “Thank you, Thaddeus.”

Tell her, Aylander said.

Thaddeus was more highly aware of Zoe's hand on his shoulder than he had been of anything else in his entire life. He wanted to turn his head and look at her, to look into her eyes and tell her everything about how he felt, but he was still afraid. “Did you . . . did you sense anything else?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” Zoe said. “Maybe. But, sometimes, a cleric's own feelings can get in the way of what she senses from others.”

The two of them were silent for a time. Zoe didn't take her hand away, and Thaddeus was glad of it. “I . . . um . . . I dreamed of you, sometimes,” Thaddeus said at last, breaking the silence. He still wouldn't look at her. “I dreamed of you a lot, actually, and used to wonder how you were. How your tavern was faring. If you'd ever found a . . . a husband for yourself. I told myself I'd come visit you, someday, even though my oaths as a Holy Knight tied me to the Conclave and to the mages. It used to worry me that you wouldn't recognize me when I did.” Thaddeus laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Silly, huh?”

“I don't think it was silly,” Zoe said softly. “I don't think it was silly, at all.” Her grip on his shoulder tightened. “Look at me, Thad.”

Thaddeus finally allowed himself to turn his head. His breath caught when his eyes met Zoe's. “Thad,” she said, “I want you to tell me what you're feeling. I need to know that what I think I'm sensing from you isn't just my own emotions getting in the way.”

“Gods Above, help me,” Thaddeus said. “Zoe, I'm in love with you. I think I have been since before I was sent away.”

Zoe smiled, and Thaddeus was sure he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I was hoping you'd say that. Because I'm in love with you, too. I used to think I wasn't, back before you were sent away – I mean, how right would it be for a woman who was almost three hundred years old to have feelings for someone who wasn't even out of his teens, yet? – but, after you were gone, I found myself missing you. Missing our talks, and the way you used to open up after I'd given you a bowl of stew. Horace – the Abbott – used to catch me daydreaming, sometimes, and because of the connection the Abbott shares with the other members of the Order, he always knew it was about you. At first, he would chide me about it, reminding me of how much dividing your soul might change you, but, as time went on, and the daydreams persisted, he stopped.” She looked away, then, sniffing and blinking her eyes. “Thaddeus, there is one more thing you need to know. When your soul was divided, the half of you that became the Wanderer turned into someone who isn't very nice. He was dark and brooding, and, though he retained your innate sense of justice – something that, for all I've seen, seems to be woven into every part of your being – he seemed to enjoy violence. Because of that, I don't know how he will react when we eventually find him.”

“You're afraid he'll try to kill me, aren't you?” Thaddeus asked.

Zoe nodded. “He's always known what he is, and what he was. Right from the very moment he was created.” She looked at him. “And he's always hated you.”

Thaddeus smiled at her. “I don't hate him, though. I need him to be complete, and, just like I know that, I'm sure he know he needs me, too. He won't kill me, Zoe. I know he won't.”

Zoe gave him a weak smile. “He better not. Not after what I've told you about I feel. I had been saving that for after we found him and figured out how to put your soul back together.”

“INDEED, HE WILL NOT KILL YOU. FOR HE IS A GUEST UNDER MY ROOF, AND I AM HOPING THAT YOU, SHOULD YOU PROVE CAPABLE OF ANSWERING MY CHALLENGE, WILL BE, AS WELL.”

The booming voice came from behind them. Leaping to their feet, Thaddeus and Zoe whirled around to face its source, Thaddeus bringing his still glowing sword to bear. Standing there, not more than five feet away, and staring down at them with eyes that glowed with the same blue light as Thaddeus's sword, was a man-shaped creature made entirely of rock.

“SHOULD YOU NOT PROVE SO CAPABLE,” the creature, which was clearly one the Guardians, and which spoke despite not having a visible mouth of any kind, went on, “THEN BOTH YOU, AND THE ONE WHO IS MY GUEST, WILL DIE HERE, FORGOTTEN LIKE SO MANY WHO HAVE COME THIS WAY OVER THE CENTURIES.”

Impressive, is it not? Aylander asked, sounding so enthusiastic that, had he been present in the flesh, Thaddeus would have strangled him.

The Divided Knight - Chapter Thirteen

The hills grew steeper and the weather cooler as they drew closer to the foot of the Ivory Spires. All day they had been on the lookout, watching the countryside for any sign of imminent attack by one of Atraxos's Abominations, but, thus far, they had seen nothing, though there was a sense of tension in the air that hadn't been there before. Zoe felt that tension as a part of herself – it called to her cleric's powers, making them sing and recoil in equal parts, warning her that undead creatures were close at hand. The tension did something to her new abilities, as well, though it was hard for her to define exactly what. Whatever it had done, though, she knew she was more ready to face Abominations than she ever had been. Which doesn't mean I'm really ready to, she mused. No one can ever be truly ready to face something like that.

“I think I see something up ahead,” Thaddeus said, stopping to point. “On the crest of the next hill.”

Zoe looked, and saw what seemed to be the ruins of a house. From this distance – more than a mile – it was hard to make out too many details about the ruin, but, as soon as she saw it, Zoe felt her blood run cold. That ruin was not supposed to be there. It was too close to the road they were on, and, even from here, it looked too new. Any ruins here in the eastern marches should have been made of stone, like the watchtower they had camped in the night before, but the ruined house she looked at, now, had been constructed of wood.

“Is that a house?” Thaddeus asked.

“What's left of one,” Zoe said. “And it isn't supposed to be there.”

“Aylander says the same thing. He says there are powerful enchantments surrounding it.” Thaddeus looked at her. “Can we go around it?”

Zoe shook her head. “I don't think so. Something tells me it'll move with us.”

“What do you think put it there?”

“An Abomination. Something they used to call a Lich. And it probably isn't alone.”

They stood there for a moment, looking out at the top of the next hill. It was getting late in the afternoon, their shadows stretching out before them. Only a few hours of daylight remained and, once the sun set, the powers of the Abomination that had put the ruined house in their path would grow. Right now, though, if they made an all-out charge and held nothing back, they had something of an advantage. Not exactly how I was taught to deal with the undead, Zoe thought. But what other choice do we have?

Summon me, Healer, Aylander suddenly said to her. Like you did back in the abbey. I may have no true physical form, but, when you called me forth, before, I felt I still had control of many of my former abilities as a Sword Priest. And those abilities will prove invaluable in a fight like this.

Zoe spoke the words and Aylander, his form wraith-like and ephemeral, appeared beside them. The Eltaran spirit's eyes were aglow, shining like sapphires, and Zoe could feel just how strong he was. As she looked, Aylander smiled at her, and there was something dangerous about that smile – he'd been looking forward to this, and was going to enjoy what was about to happen.

Thaddeus, who had shown no surprise at all when Zoe summoned Aylander, drew his sword. “We charge?” he asked.

Zoe nodded. “We charge.”

They started to run, racing down the hill they were on and into the dip that separated it from the next. As soon as they set foot into the dip, skeletal forms carrying spears and swords emerged from the earth. Thaddeus slashed at the one nearest to him, cutting it in two and sending splinters of bone flying. Zoe lashed out with her power, pulses of radiant energy emerging from her outstretched hands, the energy blasting apart every skeletal warrior that it touched. Aylander's spirit swirled around them, and, the skeletons he found lit up like torches, turning to ash in seconds.

The first wave dealt with, they continued on, fighting as they moved, but then, when they reached the foot of the next hill, they were brought to a sudden, painful halt – a magical barrier had been laid across their path, and they ran into it so hard they were thrown back, Zoe's breath puffing out of her in an “Oof!” as she hit the ground. Not even Aylander was able to get through the barrier, and, as she laid on the ground, trying to get her breath back, Zoe felt it as he was forced back into Thaddeus's sword. I'm not going to be able to summon him, again. The Lich did something to my spell.

“You fought bravely,” a menacing, raspy voice said from somewhere above them. “Very bravely, indeed. Your bravery, however, does nothing to lessen your foolishness. And, now, you are mine.”

Thaddeus had pulled himself to his feet. Zoe could see he was still winded from the fall, and blood streamed down his face from a broken nose, but he stared defiantly ahead of him and said, “Yours, creature? Yours? I don't think so.”

The Lich laughed, a sound that reminded Zoe of the rustle of dry leaves. “So, the half-man speaks. Tell me, brave one, where is the rest of you? Dining on your soul will leave me unsatisfied without his, as well.”

Zoe pushed herself to her feet. Her chest hurt, and her nose had been bloodied, as well, but her powers were starting to take effect as she used them on herself, and, even now, her pain was fading. Staring across the magical barrier – which was visible, now, outlined by a thin, shimmering nimbus of green energy – she was met by the sight of a skeleton dressed in tattered mage robes. The skeleton held an ash staff in its right hand and dim, blue light shone from its eye sockets. It was indeed a Lich, and all Liches were powerful to one degree or another, but this one, she sensed, was comparatively weak.

“Dining on his soul?” Zoe said. “Will your master allow that?”

The Lich looked at her and, when it did, seemed to flinch backward slightly. “You know nothing of my master, cleric!” it said, trying to sound defiant. “Nothing!”

“I know he scares you. For that matter, I know I scare you, too.”

“You are nothing but a lowly cleric, woman. How could you possibly scare me?”

Without thinking, Zoe raised her hand, slashing it from side to side in the shape of an X. There was a crack like thunder and, all at once, the magical barrier disappeared. “I offer you a choice, Lich,” Zoe said, suddenly certain that she could do what she was about to propose. “Surrender yourself to me, and I will see that you are freed. No more will you be at your master's beck and call, and your soul will no longer be tied to this world. Where it goes once it has been freed is not up to me – not even I can influence the will of the Gods Above – but it will be free.”

The Lich had retreated up the hill from them. It couldn't make itself vanish, however, as it was as bound to the enchantments surrounding the ruined house as the ruined house was. “What if I refuse?” it asked.

Zoe gestured at Thaddeus, who, as if on cue, raised his sword. “Then I give you to him. You know there is no room for you in the Scourger he carries. If he kills you with it, your soul will be obliterated.”

The Lich stood silently for a moment, considering. “Either way, I am damned.” It raised its staff, pointing it at Zoe, and, as she watched, the end started to glow.

“Thaddeus!”

Thaddeus leaped between Zoe and the Lich, swinging his sword to deflect the ball of fire it hurled at her. Then he charged up the hill, swinging his sword in arcs that deflected everything the retreating Lich threw at him. Zoe followed behind, throwing pulses of radiance that staggered the Lich and slowly made it start to fall apart. And then Thaddeus swung his sword one last time, taking off the Lich's head. The air was rent by a single, agonized wail, and the Lich's body collapsed in a clatter of falling bones. The bones turned to dust the instant they hit the ground, which was then scattered by a sudden gust of wind.

After a few moments of silence, Thaddeus sheathed his sword and faced her. “Could you have done it?” he asked. “Could you have freed the Lich's soul from Atraxos's control?”

“I think so,” Zoe said.

“I've heard the stories, you know,” Thaddeus said. “About how clerics are supposed to be able to fight undead even better than mages can. But I've never heard anything about a cleric being able to free their souls.”

“Normal clerics can't. They either destroy undead, or cause them to flee.” Zoe forced a smile – she was exhausted and in dire need of some serious sleep. “I think we've already established I'm not a normal cleric, anymore, though.”

“You look exhausted,” Thaddeus said.

Zoe laughed. “You look like you were in a tavern brawl.”

Zoe almost collapsed, then, but Thaddeus moved fast enough to catch her. After that, she was vaguely aware of Thaddeus carrying her, and then laying her down on the ground. A little while later, she thought she felt the warmth of a fire, but she wasn't sure. Sleep – deep, peaceful, and dreamless – enveloped her, then, and she knew no more until the next morning.