"You are certain it was Morvath?" said Krom on the morning following Skylar's encounter with the black figure in his tent.

"Who else could it have been?" said Skylar. "No, it was none other. I have no doubt."

"You saw him too?" he said, turning to Endrick.

"Great Yurik, no! I'd have sliced him to bacon strips had I caught that swine."

"Was there any sign of intrusion? Colonel, did your men sweep the area? He must have left some kind of trace," said Krom.

"My men made a thorough scan of the area, Sir," replied the colonel. "Nothing was found."

Krom turned back to Skylar, a look of doubt evident on his face. Skylar knew what must be passing through everyone's mind.

"It wasn't a dream," said Skylar. "I was as awake as I am now."

Krom considered Skylar for several moments, rubbed his stubbled chin.

"I don't know what you saw," he said after a time. "Men do not appear and vanish without a trace. What more, I cannot fathom how he might have entered Haladras and our encampment undetected. Still, I want Endrick at your side at all times. I will speak to Captain Arturo about tightening our border security."

That was all Krom had said on the matter. It was obvious no one really believed Morvath had entered their encampment. Skylar himself began to feel less sure of it as the day wore on. Whether it was a dream, an apparition, or Morvath in the flesh, one thing remained unchanged: Morvath's words had left Skylar doubting.

As much as he hated to admit it, he doubted about the justice of their rebellion. Doubted about his father. What if Morvath was right? The thought made him dizzy, confused. For not the first time since his life had been turned upside-down he distressed over the difficulty of judging what was right.

The next morning, they held a council of war. This time, instead of playing the role of silent observer, Skylar made his voice and thoughts known. No longer could he live in the shadow of others. He must learn to lead.

"I wish to end this conflict as soon as may be," he said as the council deliberated on their next course of action.

"I agree," added Rasbus. "The sooner, the better."

"Of that, I advise against," said the tall regal figure, whom Skylar now knew to be Lord Rowvan of Allega, his grandfather. "The Castle Ahlderon is a mighty fortification. To come against it would be to come against a mountain."

"Then we will crush the mountain," boomed Rasbus.

"Not without a great loss to our own forces."

"And I want to avoid imperiling our troops at all cost," said Skylar. "Already they have suffered much. What do you suggest, Lord Rowvan?"

"Thank you, Prince Korbyn. My plan is simple. We lay siege to Ahlderon; choke her off from the rest of the empire; block the flow of provisions to her; we starve her until Tarus is forced to send out his army against us in open battle."

"Yes, but how long will that take?" said Arturo. "Six months? A year? More? Our own troops must be sustained as well. An expensive endeavor. It becomes, then, a battle of endurance and patience. No, we must end this quickly, while our provisions are adequate and the soldiers' spirits high."

"Either option has its risks," added Krom, speaking out for the first time. "Like Lord Rowvan, I feel an attack on the castle is perilous. Yet, I fear what Morvath might contrive should we give him sufficient time."

"I fear him more than all Tarus' soldiers combined," said Skylar.

"We are fighting an army," said Rasbus, "not a single man. That snake Morvath does not frighten me. Let him send out his mechanical butterflies against us."

"All very well, my brave fellow," said Lord Rowvan, "but unless you can attack the castle from the inside out, it is futile."

Skylar was about to respond when Krom spoke again. "With that, I may be able to help."

* * *

He hated the idea of leaving Haladras again. At the same time, he felt relieved. Nothing but painful memories seemed to be left for him on the planet he called home. He visited his mother one last time before the ships embarked for Ahlderon.

"I would tell you to be careful, again," said his mother. "But I don't think you would listen to me. Endrick told me how you were hurt."

She hugged him tightly.

"If the busy life of a king permits it," she said, "try to visit your lonely mother once in a while."

She said it lightheartedly, but tears were already forming in her eyes.

"I'll never be too busy for you. But you will not live here if I am ever king, but on Ahlderon, with me."

She smiled and laughed lightly, as if the idea were nothing but a fairytale.

"Did you ever go talk to that little friend of yours? The one with the pretty red hair?"

Skylar shook his head bitterly.

"There's still time," she coaxed.

"Perhaps a little, but what good would it do? Everyone close to me just gets killed or maimed beyond repair. No. She's better off without me in her life. I only bring trouble."

* * *

Ahlderon—his home planet, the crowning jewel of the empire, the envy of the galaxy. In all his recent travel, Skylar had not seen any place to compare with it. Its beauty and splendor far exceeded anything he'd ever beheld.

It felt immense, too, full of majesty and power. It made him feel small and insignificant to look at it. His confidence waned.

The heavens above the capital were teeming with transports, merchant ships, jetwinged fliers, two-seaters, shiny speeders, and a hundred other types of crafts he'd never seen before. So many, they might have been clouds against the azure sky. These darted, glided, or hovered above a thousand towering buildings, piercing upwards with their glinting spires or square profiles. The entire city was built around a great hill. Outside the city, verdant rolling hills swept away in all directions; to the north, snowy mountains; to the south, noble forests. Overshadowing the entire scene, atop that green hill rose a mighty fortress, the Castle Ahlderon.

"Welcome home, Skylar," said Krom who had come to join him at the window. They were traveling in the Luna. Krom, Endrick, Grüny Sykes, Rasbus, and Skylar were traveling ahead of their army. In the Luna they hoped to avoid attention. Seeing the sky filled with ships, Skylar felt reassured that no one would pay them a second thought. A few other merchant shuttles, filled with Haladrian soldiers, were headed to the nearest space-traffic probes on Ahlderon. These were secreted at strategic points on the planet's surface. Points which Krom knew well. With the probes disabled, their military ships could enter the planet unannounced.

"It doesn't feel like home," replied Skylar.

"Don't worry, it will grow on you quickly. It's a far more beautiful land than the one you call home."

Krom almost sounded happy as he spoke. Something Skylar had not detected in this stern man's countenance before.

"I'd rather live a thousand years on Haladras if I could have my old life back—everyone alive again," he said softly. Then, "Do you think we can do it? Can we bring down Tarus and his oppressive regime?"

"Evil shall always fall where good men are willing to stand," answered the old Krom. "The Spirit King shall speed our cause."

"Just like he did on Haladras? Where was his army of angels?"

The hint of bitterness in Skylar's voice was not lost on Krom.

"They were there...they were there. Though your eyes may have been blind to them..."

"Then why did they let my father die—the true king? Why did Kindor die and Rolander lose his arm?"

Skylar continued to stare out at the city below. He had not spoken in anger, but as one confused, in despair.

"Death is not a punishment for the just and noble, but the beginning of a life in a realm of all the great kings who have ever lived in our world. Mourn their departure from us. But grieve for them not. They are better off than we, for we must continue the fight."

Despite Krom's unsatisfactory answer, Skylar did not reply. He had no heart to pursue it further. So he remained silent, pondering Krom's words, wishing he could see with his own eyes what had become of his father...of Kindor...of Grim. Absently, he clutched at the tiny leather pouch hanging from his neck beneath his tunic.

"The limbreath," he said, turning to Krom. "What is it for?"

"Limbreath—a plant with supernatural virtues, some claim. Legend tells it comes from Elydar. Grim spoke to you of Elydar, I believe."

Skylar nodded solemnly.

"I have not heard anyone speak of limbreath for many, many years. It has ever been rare, much of it counterfeit. Apothecaries used to crave it like a lame bird craves to fly. To most, now, Elydar is naught but a myth, and with it limbreath."

"But it's not, is it?"

"No more a myth than you or I. Alas, I cannot tell you what it is for."

"I've heard it will make your breath turn foul if you put it in your mouth," interjected Endrick. "Might come in handy if we're attacked by a hoard of dainty maidens. Make 'em faint outright."

Skylar smiled, but insisted that Krom explain himself. Krom either couldn't or wouldn't reveal any more than he already knew.

"'To use in your hour of greatest need,' as your father said."

Skylar did not have a chance to reply. Grüny had just announced that they would soon be landing. He took his seat with the others, fastened himself in, and prepared to disembark.

Dark cloaks provided their disguise as they stepped out onto the landing pad of the cramped commercial port nestled within the heart of the city. Grüny, well known among the pilots and port masters, did not attempt to hide his identity, and acted as though he were merely conveying a group of paying customers.

"Priests," he said gruffly to the port master, as he made some pretense at unloading their luggage. "Just arrived from Kyndoo Yavi. Here to see the king."

The port master nodded his head and spat on the ground. "Seems like they oughta be traveling higher class than your old tub of bolts." He chuckled at his own witty remark.

"What...the Luna? She's as fit as any ship here." Then added, as he turned away, "See that she's taken care of, Jim. No passengers for a day or so. Have some business in town."

With that, he lumbered off toward the others, empty luggage boxes in hand. Together they made their way across the port and into the terminal, where Grüny deposited the luggage with his passengers.

"I'll meet you at the 'Ol Ironclad Tavern, near Crossroads Square within the hour," he whispered.

Then he pretended to bid them a cold farewell, turned and walked away.

The streets of the city were packed full of bustling traffic. People on foot jammed the edge of the streets. Transports sped by in both directions, mere inches away from the flowing foot traffic. Kids Skylar's own age zipped by on speeder bikes and jetwings, weaving in and out between the oncoming traffic.

Forced to press themselves against the side of the buildings, the companions laboriously traversed their way up the street. Numerous times an opposing walker shouldered Skylar, sending him staggering backwards and fighting to keep up with the others. How can there be so many people in one city? Skylar wondered. He felt suffocated and feared they would never arrive at their destination.

As they moved along, though, the crowds gradually began to thin. The sun, now setting, left the narrow streets in a darkness which was only relieved by pale phosphorescent lights embedded into the sides of the buildings. Krom led their little procession on in silence, moving swiftly and surely through the labyrinth of streets. Despite the darkness, the streets still seemed busy to Skylar. Nothing like the abandoned streets of Dura Cragis he once navigated alone at night. Speeders and transports still continued to race by in either direction. And street-bound walkers still passed by in small droves.

At last they arrived at an old ramshackle tavern, at the street level of a derelict building. The crooked sign above the door read The 'Ol Ironclad and bore a faded painting of a sword crossing a shield.

"Speak to no one," was Krom's only instruction before leading them inside. It was a dark and gloomy sort of place. A place where one might hide in the shadows of a booth or far corner without attracting notice. A place where one went with intents other than to merely partake of food and drink. A place of purpose.

The companions sat in a booth far removed from anyone. Krom ordered them a loaf of bread, some cheese, and meat pies.

"Eat heartily," said Krom. "We have a long night before us."

They ate in silence, and, for Skylar's part, without relish. He felt no hunger. Yet he forced himself to eat to preserve his strength. After what felt like hours, Grüny Sykes rejoined them, he too now wearing a hooded cloak. As the captain of the Luna ate, Krom went over their plans.

"Our first object is to get inside the castle," he spoke in a low whisper. "There are but two ways inside: through the gates or an underground passage, whose location few in the empire know. Beneath the castle runs a secret river, from which it draws its water supply. A defense mechanism. Should an enemy besiege the city, he could attempt to cut off the city's water supply by damming the Misted River, but the castle's water would never run dry."

"And how do we get underneath the castle?" said Rasbus. "Where is this hidden passage?"

"Through the sewer."

"Oh, that's lovely," said Endrick, "I knew I shouldn't have volunteered."

Krom paid no attention to Endrick's outburst.

"The castle's sewer drains converge with the city's very near here, beneath the city streets."

"And the drain pipes are large enough for us to enter?" asked Rasbus, his voice hinting at his incredulity. "They, at least, must have iron grating to prevent what you're proposing."

"They are too narrow—far too narrow. But they are merely a ruse, as distraction. The river I speak of, it too feeds into the sewer. Though, its outlet is well concealed. The original constructors put it there as an escape route should the royal family ever need to flee the castle undetected. That was over a century ago. But its purpose will serve us."

"That is," added Rasbus, "assuming no one has blocked it off in the last fourteen years."

Krom looked at Rasbus with steady determination.

"We either enter the castle this way, or fail in our quest altogether. No other way exists."

They waited until after midnight to put Krom's plan into action. The night air was crisp as the companions slipped quietly through the darkness. The streets, now vacant, felt eerily calm, as if something menacing waited around every corner. Yet, Skylar felt no fear. The steady sound of Rasbus' inexorable plod at his rear and the long powerful strides of Krom leading the way gave him a sense of invincibility not even a thousand soldiers could give him. He felt their loyalty, as he had felt Grim's and his father's.

After a few turns, Krom halted in an alleyway.

"Endrick, a hand with this," he said, bending to the street and putting his hands on the bars of square metal grate. It covered an opening, a hole, in the street. Endrick hastened over, positioning himself on the other side of Krom. The two strained against it for only a moment before Rasbus took charge of the matter.

"I'll handle this," he said, shouldering Endrick aside.

Clasping the grate with his massive hands, he pulled upwards, his neck muscles bulging from the effort. Slowly, the rusty metal began to creak obstinately, then with one swift movement, the grate came free. Setting the grate aside, Rasbus motioned for Krom to lead the way.

They descended the hole by means of a grappling hook and cord—just like the one Lasseter had used when he and Skylar stole into Amrahdel the night his whole world changed. The recollection of his father sent a fresh jolt of pain to his gut. He should be here, too.

An astringent odor from the sewer burned his nostrils and watered his eyes as he descended into the blackness. Below him, the sound of splashing water echoed as Krom and Endrick reached the bottom. The sickly green glow of two phosphorescent torches suddenly illuminated the scene. Skylar touched down into the water. It came midway up to his calves. For a moment he just stood there, feeling nauseated by the stench.

"You'll grow accustomed to the smell," said Krom, holding up the torch and peering down the long conduit sewer. "You won't notice it after a while."

"That's because your sense of smell will be gone by then," said Endrick.

"Oof!" ejaculated Rasbus, splashing down next to Skylar and spraying Skylar's legs with the filthy water. "Smells worse than a week of latrine duty."

As soon as Grüny was down, Krom retrieved the grappling hook by tugging on the cord using some cryptic pattern, just as Lasseter had done.

"This way," said Krom, motioning with the torch, before striking off down the tunnel. The others sloshed behind. They walked for less than a quarter of an hour before Krom halted. To Skylar, however, it felt much longer, with the odor, the darkness, the constant sound of water streaming in from all sides.

They stood at a nondescript portion of the sewer. A few open pipes protruded from the stone-paved wall next to them, pouring slowly into this main sewer. Aside from this, nothing else set it apart from any other spot. Wordlessly, Krom crouched down, put his hand into the water, and searched for something. A moment later, he unsheathed his sword, thrust it into the water, the tempered steel scraping against the stone, then began to pry at an unseen object. At first nothing seemed to happen. Slowly, though, the surface of the black waters began to churn and morph into a shape, as yet another iron grate lifted out of the water.

Endrick and Rasbus hastened to take hold of it, moving it away from the spot.

Krom shed his cloak.

"Below here is the mouth of the drain of the secret river. Take a deep breath."

Without another word, Krom took the torch, dove head first into the water and disappeared. For a second, Skylar stared at the spot, expecting Krom to resurface and give further instructions. He did not. Endrick shed his cloak and handed his torch to Skylar.

"I hate the water," he grumbled, then stepped out over the same spot and immediately plunged into the water.

Gone.

"You next," ordered Rasbus to Skylar.

He looked at the old harbor master then back at the spot that had swallowed Krom and Endrick.

"Hurry, Prince, before Krom's light is out of view."

Skylar removed his cloak, but did not let it fall into the water. He clutched the coarse paqua-hair garment in his hands and remembered how his father had given it to him. How could he part with is now?

"Hurry, Skylar."

Ruefully, he held the cloak in his outstretched arm and slowly forced his fingers to release their grip, let the precious fabric fall into the foul water. As he did so, and the black water consumed his cloak, he felt as if another piece of him were swallowed up in blackness, despair.

Everyone, everything I care about...

Then he stepped out to the spot where Krom and Endrick disappeared, vaguely wondered how long he would have to hold his breath, took a deep breath, then plunged in feet first.