I know it isn't real. The pendant merely gives me the appearance of normalcy, yet I feel a clear difference inside. Though I can still see Syndel's aura, the gnawing, ever-present hunger I've felt for so long is dimmed. Now, her glow is just something that adds to her beauty. My eyes and skin that were always so sensitive feel stronger, more durable. If a Noble-lord, or even a Sikari, were to look at me, they would have no idea what I truly am.

This doesn't tell me what I'm supposed to do, though.

“In order to defeat Mulogo, you must weaken him,” says the stone man as if hearing my thoughts. “That can only be done when the prince gives up his desire to spread his suffering. He and Mulogo are forever connected, yet Bronek doesn't realize it. The more souls he takes, the more it fuels the sorcerer, making Mulogo all but invincible.”

“Are you saying I must find the first Soulless and simply convince him to stop taking souls?” I ask in disbelief. “You obviously have no idea how strong the hunger and hatred are.”

The stone man glares at me. “Then do nothing and leave the world to fall into utter destruction.”

My face flushes. I would never turn away from those who need help, especially if I'm the only one who can provide it. “Why are you doing this?” I ask, wishing to change the subject. “Mulogo was your master. How do I know this isn't some elaborate trap the two of you have concocted?”

“You can't know for sure,” he says. “But are you willing to risk what could be at stake? Mulogo is blinded by the power he has obtained. Souls were never meant to be used this way. It goes against nature and humanity. The world has been struggling against this dark degradation from the beginning, but she is losing the battle. We will all suffer unless you do something.”

When I don't respond, he continues. “The talisman will lead you to the prince. After you succeed in convincing him, the change will be felt by Mulogo. He will come to you.”

I wonder how he can be so confident that I will succeed. “And what about Syndel?” I ask, imagining the danger that lies ahead. I don't want her anywhere near it. “What is her part in all this?”

The stone man looks at her. “She knows.”

I look at her as well, waiting for the answer, but she says nothing. It must be something so terrible she dares not tell me. Yet, it can't be any worse than what my mind can conjure.

“You may stay here to rest for as long as you desire,” the stone man says, “but don't forget you're being hunted as we speak.”

The Noble-lords. Have they arrived in Nikom and learned of Syndel's departure? Are they making their way through the forest even now? I look at Syndel again. “We shouldn't linger.”

“I agree,” she says, avoiding my eyes.

We head to the exit, but I pause and turn back to the stone man. “Are you coming with us?”

He shakes his head. “I cannot do too much or Mulogo will be warned before you are ready. However,” he scurries toward us, “should you need assistance, you may call upon me once.” Reaching up to his face, he extracts one of his golden eyes and offers it to me. “Throw this against something made of stone and say my name. I will come.”

I take the golden eye from him. It is smooth and heavy. It's probably made of pure gold. “What is your name?”

He's silent for a moment as if he can't quite remember. “Garreg. Good luck, Crescent.”

Syndel and I take our leave, saying nothing as we make our way through the tunnel and back out the fissure in the hill. Hetty is waiting for us. She grunts in impatience, nudging Syndel in the chest first. Turning to me, she hesitates, one of her dark eyes fixed on mine.

“It's me, Hetty,” I say, guessing she has noticed the difference in me as well.

The mare sniffs at me to make sure and then pushes her nose into my shoulder. I scratch her head, pleased that I'm still acceptable.

“Which way?” Syndel asks, her voice muted with sullenness.

I flinch, feeling the emotion. I don't know how to make it better, especially since she won't tell me. “Syndel, whatever is expected of you during this quest, I will support you no matter what.”

She gives a small smile, though I still see a trace of gloom in her eyes. “You promise?”

I force myself to nod, hoping it's a promise I can keep in the end. Shifting my attention to the pendant, I wait for it to give a sign as to which direction we should go. It does nothing. I hold it in my hand, rubbing my thumb against the side. The smooth surface feels hot on my skin as if the candle flame is still alive. My thumb moves to the three red gems, touching each one by one.

An image suddenly flashes in my mind. A large city on an island in the middle of a clear blue lake. The image disappears, leaving me lightheaded. I bend over to wait out the dizziness. Syndel's hand touches my back.

“Are you all right?”

“I think so. The pendant showed me something. I think it's where we'll find the prince.” I describe the city to her.

“That's Heldra,” she says quietly. “I've been there.”

“You have?” I asked.

She nods. “It's the first place I was taken after being abducted as a child. The headquarters of the Noble-lords.”

My stomach drops. The prince is there? It's not possible unless he's become one of the Noble-lords' slaves. Somehow I doubt he would let himself be captured. So why would he intentionally place himself in a city full of people who would destroy him on sight?

Going there will be risky for us as well. I might be able to hide what I am, thanks to the pendant, but there's no guarantee I won't make a mistake that gives my secret away. With Syndel, she might be recognized. I'm tempted to persuade her to stay behind, but I know she won't consent. I have another idea that might be more agreeable. “What do you think about changing your appearance?”

Her hands automatically touch her long auburn hair. “I suppose that would be wise,” she says.

At the bottom of the hill, I stoke a small fire with the two striking stones from my pack to blacken some wood into charcoal while Syndel gathers and crushes a handful of fat black beetles. When the sticky concoction is mixed, we both look at it, frowning. The smell is terrible.

“We should cut it first,” Syndel says, reaching for her hair again, weaving it into a long braid.

“Are you sure?” I ask, sensing her trepidation about losing part of her identity.

She nods, shutting her eyes. I retrieve the small knife from the leather case at my belt and stand behind her, gathering her soft tresses. “Ready?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers.

The blade slices through her hair, which now brushes the top of her shoulders. The braid hangs loosely in my hand. “Do you want to keep it?”

“No.”

I should let it go or drop it into the lingering embers of the fire, but I can't. While her back is still turned to me, I hastily stow the braid in my pack and put my knife back inside its sheath. When I return to Syndel's side she's already spreading globs of the thick black dye all over her head. It's a messy job, and soon her hands are coated and smudges dot her face. She notices me watching her.

“I probably look hideous,” she mutters.

To me, it wouldn't matter what was done to change her appearance. She'll always be beautiful. I should say these words to reassure her, but I'm too afraid to take the chance. “It will take some getting used to,” I say.

Her forehead crinkles and I know it wasn't what she wanted to hear. “I'm going to rinse it out now,” she says, moving toward the creek bed.

I feel like a fool. I had the perfect opportunity to make her feel better and I squandered it all because I'm a coward.

She comes back soon after, her hands and face clean, her short dark hair dripping. The change is dramatic, but the color suits her fair complexion. “I like it,” I say, hoping to make up for my earlier stupidity. She doesn't seem convinced but smiles anyway.

“Does it make my aura dimmer?”

I blink at her, searching for a change in her glow. She laughs.

“I was joking.”

After burying the remnants of the fire, we move away from Garreg's hill and head south.

“There's only one main entrance into Heldra,” Syndel says. “A bridge across the lake from the western shore. But there's another way used by smugglers and bandits. A swamp on the opposite side of the lake. We should be able to find a boat there.”

Both ways have their risks, but I'd rather deal with a few miscreants than be confronted by a troop of Noble-lords. “To the swamp.”

***

We camp for the night, the forest and mountains a good distance behind us. The air grows cold, more so than previous nights. And the land itself is darker. Bushes and trees are brown, their limbs drooping. I also notice the remains of several animals, picked clean by scavengers and the heat of the sun. My first real glimpse of the scourge of Mulogo. If it has been creeping over the land for the last century, how have I failed to notice it until now? Being preoccupied with my own struggles has made me blind to those of everyone else.

Our fire is kept small as to not attract attention, though I'm confident even if the Noble-lords have discovered which way we started out, they won't catch up anytime soon. Syndel huddles near the flames, wrapping our only blanket around her shoulders. I never expected to need one, but now that I have the amber pendant, I feel the cold biting at my skin. I hide my discomfort until it's time to sleep. I can't seem to keep my eyes open, yet the shivers running through my body prevent me from drifting off.

“Cress,” Syndel says sleepily, “you're going to freeze to death.”

We both know that's not true, but I like the concern I hear in her voice. “I'll be fine.” My teeth chatter, giving away my lie.

“We can share the blanket,” she says, lifting one of her arms to make an opening for me.

I don't move, though my mind swirls with a myriad of thoughts. Some are questions, wondering and analyzing. Most are the long-awaited hopes I've kept in my heart. Now that I'm different, in a way, do I deserve for my hopes to come true?

I get to my feet and move toward her, telling myself over and over this is merely a way for us to stay warm. I sit next to her, keeping a small space between us. She, however, scoots closer and wraps one side of the blanket around me. My shivering stops and I begin to relax, her scent lulling me into a peaceful stupor.

Syndel is in the distance, calling my name. I run to her, my hands reaching out. Instead of grabbing her the way a predator might seize its prey, I pull her close, our heartbeats synchronizing like the melody and harmony of a song. I feel as if I haven't seen her in ages. Her hair is once again a golden auburn, long and flowing. I run my fingers through it as she rests her cheek on my chest.

My true feelings for her can no longer be held back. The words flow from my lips. I'm neither nervous nor ashamed to tell her. She responds, though her voice is muffled and unintelligible. She suddenly pulls away, her face frozen in terror.

Before I can ask what's wrong she is wrenched from my arms, engulfed by a cloud of black mist. A voice from somewhere, perhaps everywhere, laughs as I scream her name.

My eyes fly open. I hold back a strangled cry, my insides writhing. It takes a moment for me to realize she's not really gone. She's here in my arms. My sudden awakening hasn't disturbed her. I look down at her face. Wisps of black hair curl around her cheek. I lower my head just enough to press my lips against her forehead.

Nothing will take her away from me.