The front lines were nothing like Joshua imagined they would be. A chaotic arrangement of tents greeted him as he followed the caravan into the camp. Each one was marked with a noble’s seal and bright colors.

  There were hundreds of men toiling around the camp. These weren’t soldiers or knights. They were servants, laborers, blacksmiths, and cooks; all of the people Joshua would expect in a city.

  “You need people to mend your clothes, fix your armor, and cook your meals, even out here,” Logan said from beside Joshua. “Most of the soldiers are out there.”

  Joshua looked to the north, seeing for the first time the massive cloud of dust that rested to the north. It took a moment for him to realize that he was seeing the battle, just from a distance. He squinted, trying to pick up any detail, but it was fruitless.

  A short bald man, clad in a red tabard marked with an eagle’s claw met the head of the caravan once it was in the camp. By then, Joshua, Logan and Elaine were close enough to the front to hear what he was saying.

  “Another caravan bound for the north?” the man asked as he looked over the caravan. “I suppose you all have your papers.”

  From behind the man, five soldiers marched up. They started searching through the caravan without a word. The leader’s eyes roved over every man there. When Joshua met his grey eyes, he knew something was wrong.

  “You there.” The five soldiers surrounded Logan, with the bearded leader standing at the edge of the circle. “You’ll come with us, right now.”

  “What would you want with me?” Logan asked, his hand on his sword.

  “Lord Alban would have a word with you,” the leader said.

  At that silent signal, the men descended on Logan. Before he could even draw his sword, the guards threw him to the ground. Within the space of a breath, eight arms held him against the ground with four men placing all their weight into him.

  The men stripped off Logan’s weapons and threw them to the ground in haste. They didn’t even bother to gather the weapons off the ground, apparently content to let the men of the caravan have them. Joshua watched the work carefully, letting his horse slowly step forward.

  “Any man who interferes with us will face the full brunt of the executioner’s axe,” the leader announced with a great yell. “This man is under arrest for the crime of murder.”

  Beside Joshua, Elaine tensed. He could see her hand reach for her own sword. He quickly placed a hand on her shoulder and made a staying motion with his hand. Fighting this close to the army would not do anyone any good.

  “Wait,” he whispered. “If they wanted him dead immediately, this would be over already.”

  Elaine released her grip without a word, but she did not relax. Joshua couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she watched the guards take him away. He pushed it out of his mind as the guards entered the camp.

  Joshua helped Elaine gather Logan’s weapons from the dirt, keeping his eyes locked on the fading dust trail as he let the possibilities flow over his thoughts.

  “We have to rescue him,” Elaine whispered once they had escorted the caravan to its resting place.

  “How exactly should we do that then?” Joshua asked. “We can’t just storm into the camp and wave your sword around. We need to know more before we do anything.”

  He looked around at the other mercenaries and caravan workers. None had dared to meet his eyes since Logan’s arrest, but he was sure that they watched when his back was turned. They would find nothing useful until they went to the camp.

  “We will split up when we reach the camp,” Joshua said. “Try and find out where Logan is kept and who guards him. We will meet back here at sundown.”

  He and Elaine separated after that. He walked the rutted dirt paths of the camp in silence. In truth, he had no idea where to start looking, or even how he was going to gather the information. He couldn’t tell Elaine that though.

  Joshua tapped his staff against the ground absently as he explored. He had just narrowly avoided conscription into his lord’s army before he joined the Tower. If he hadn’t had the gift of magic, he might have been one of the poor souls digging latrines along the back of the camp.

  He shuddered at the thought.

  As he continued his wandering, he found himself drawn toward the center of camp. Logan forgotten, he followed the yearning in his heart that said there was something of great import there for him to find. Joshua couldn’t ignore it.

  Joshua’s heart trembled. He had never heard the savod’s voice cry out in fear. Like the cry of a child in a storm, the sound was truly terrifying in his mind. He looked around quickly, trying to figure out what scared it so much.

  Then he heard it, the faint scratch of a quill on parchment. He shouldn’t have been able to hear it; the sounds of the crowd should have all but drowned it out. He could hear it scratching, steadily writing across a page.

  Joshua followed the noise, the world drowning out to nothing as he walked through the maze of tents. Louder and louder, the scratching grew until he was certain that he was right on top of the source.

  It was just an old man, working away at an old tome. His wrinkled hand wrote carefully and calmly across the page. Joshua felt no threat from him, at least nothing that the savod would fear.

  It was a command, but Joshua was in no mind to comply. He could still remember the savod’s vile touch when it took control of his mind. This time, he would make his own choice, no matter what happened.

  “A boy from the Tower,” the man in grey robes said without looking up from his work.

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  “A man from the Tower,” Joshua said, puffing out his chest.

  “You’re a boy until your hair turns grey.” The man looked up with sparkling blue eyes. “That’s how it is in the business of magic.”

  “What do you know about magic?” Joshua asked, looking the man over. “You have no runes to control the elements, and your robe is grey, not the red of the Tower. Are you a charlatan, doing petty tricks for coin?”

  The man waved his finger and Joshua’s mouth snapped shut. Try as he might, he could not force it open. There was a force holding his lips together as if fingers pinched them together. He could only glare as the man stood and wagged his finger at him.

  “You need to learn to mind your elders, boy,” the man said, looking over Joshua with curious eyes. “That’s the only way you’ll ever master magic.”

  Joshua couldn’t respond. He couldn’t think of anything to say. The man had done something that should be impossible. There was no magic spell for holding a man’s mouth closed.

  “You’re carrying a parasite on you, boy,” the man said, picking up Joshua’s hand and revealing the band. “Someone did you a kindness in sealing the bite, but it’s already growing beyond the seal.”

  Joshua could see that now. A black vein rose out from the band, traveling up his arm and to his elbow. He hadn’t noticed it before. He fought to control his breathing as his heart hammered in his chest.

  “You look concerned.” The old man did not conceal his grin. “I bet the man who made this warned you of what would happen if you picked at it.”

  His master’s warning haunted him. He knew the consequences for his choice, but he hadn’t cared. All that mattered was the power. This changed it; the savod had already taken control of his body once and the infection was spreading.

  With a snap of his fingers, the man released his magical hold on Joshua’s lips. Joshua started to speak, but a hand from the man gave him pause. The man sighed as he inspected Joshua and shook his head.

  “First, I need to insure us some privacy.” the old man reached up and placed a palm on Joshua’s forehead.

  Joshua wanted to turn away from the wet touch, but he knew better now than to try. Warmth flooded through him, starting in his head and reaching down to his toes. When the man released Joshua, the savod was silent.

  “That pesky creature can’t hear us now,” the man said, returning to his seat and pulling out a pipe.

  “Who are you?” Joshua demanded.

  “What kind of arrogance lets you ask my name before you give your own?” The man spat.

  “I’m Joshua,” Joshua said. “Now who are you?”

  “I’m someone that your friends from the Tower don’t like very much.” The man puffed at his pipe. “I’m Dyne, and a wizard is what your order calls me.”

  Joshua’s eyes opened wide.

  “But that’s not really important right now,” he said, pointing to Joshua’s wrist. “That’s what is important. There are very few creatures in Nelim that can do that to a man.”

  “What do you know of this?” Joshua asked, holding his wrist up.

  “I’m a binder, boy,” Dyne said. “I take the essences of creatures and bind their power in my body. You got a taste of that just now. The magic is based on the same infection that you have, but it isn’t elemental magic.”

  “I already know that all magic doesn’t have to be.” Joshua huffed and leaned in on his staff. “I know many things now.”

  “You wouldn’t know knowledge from lies,” Dyne said, his lip curling. “Whatever infected you is showing you what you want to see. Any binder knows that. Here I am ready to give you some advice from someone who’s been there, and you still act haughty.”

  “What would you teach me then?” Joshua drew the magic into his hands, ready for anything.

  “Do you not notice it, boy?” Dyne said. “Can you not see that the creature is silent? Surely, the whispers and visions haunt you still. Don’t you want a way to suppress the creature back to where it belongs, to get it out of your head?”

  Joshua stopped, searching his mind. It was true; he didn’t feel the presence of the savod any longer. It was as if the creature had left him entirely. He knew that wasn’t right. Dyne wasn’t offering him a cure.

  “It’s taken control of me once,” Joshua said, his hand starting to shake. “During our journey over here, it helped me during an attack.”

  “Maybe it did, and maybe it didn’t,” Dyne said, taking another puff. “That isn’t what is important. Even if you trusted that voice with your life, you should know better as a mage than to let something have any control of your power. The risk from that is too great.”

  “What should I do?” Joshua asked.

  “I can’t tell you whether or not the creature has your best interests at heart,” Dyne said. “That would be for you to decide. But whelps like you need a way to fight back, even if the Tower won’t teach it to you.”

  “What do you gain by it?” Joshua asked.

  “What I gain is none of your concern,” Dyne said. “You know that creature will try to take control again. You cannot afford to spurn a simple trick from an old man.”

  Joshua knew that was true, but he didn’t want to admit it. While the savod might indeed try to take control of him again, there was still much to learn about magic from it. He also needed to know more about Sarrack. If he tried to grab control too soon, he might not learn everything.

  “You said that the creature couldn’t hear us,” Joshua said.

  “Yes, boy.” Dyne spat again.

  “Then, please teach me your trick.” Joshua bowed. “If your advice is true, I will need it one day.”

  Dyne looked up to him with one eye, as if he was measuring Joshua’s sincerity with his gaze. Joshua kept his bow, only keeping eye contact with Dyne. Finally, Dyne rose from his seat again.

  “It is a simple exercise,” he said, tapping his pipe against his finger. “I learned it myself when I started down the path to becoming a binder. Because we take the essence of creatures into ourselves, we also absorb part of their minds. Those who are unprepared are easily overwhelmed with the desires and thoughts of beings wholly inhuman.”

  He paused, drawing his hands together until they clasped and then closing his eyes. He breathed deeply and his chest rose and fell with each breath. Joshua couldn’t see anything special about it thought.

  “Take a part of yourself every day and store it in the deepest pockets of your mind. Take it to a place that only you can find it,” Dyne said, opening his eyes again. “If the floodgates ever open and you are overwhelmed, that will be the one place where you can fight back.”

  “That’s it?” Joshua asked, annoyance bubbling in his heart.

  “Don’t speak ill of advice given freely.” Dyne snorted in return. “I won’t save you when you are consumed and go off howling at the moon, and killing people.”

  Joshua stopped himself from further antagonizing the man. What he said was true, there was no reason for Dyne to lie about the technique, and most for control were that simple. He quickly mimicked Dyne’s earlier movements and searched his mind for somewhere to hide himself.

  He would be ready, no matter what the savod tried.

  Richard walked down the basement stairs, fumbling his hand across the rune-etched surface of the cube in his pocket with his right hand while he held a flame aloft in his left hand. His journey was over. Olson had heard his warning and taken the vial for study. Now all Richard had to do was decide what path he wanted to take.

  He could contact Joshua, ask how his apprentice was doing, but Richard knew all too well what the mage’s reaction would be. He shouldn’t do that. He could catch up with the boy when they met again.

  He let the cube fall back into the recesses of his pocket and started down the stairs with greater haste. They would not be too far north by now, he could still reach them, so long as he took the right gate.

  He reached the end of the stairs and stood before the heavy iron doors. It was the lowest place in the Tower, dug deep within the ground. It was on the same level of the ley lines, and all of the lines in the Eastland ran through the Tower at that point.

  The air tingled with the latent power.

  Richard pushed open the doors with a grunt and stepped inside the room. There were ten gates inside, each the height and width of a man. They faced the direction of each of the ley lines that stretched out from the tower.

  Richard chose the one that faced toward the center of the plains, Grumn’s Outpost.

  There was an orb seated on an altar at the center of the room. Richard touched it and imbued it with the force of his will. He called upon the air, and willed it to open the gate. A gust of wind ripped through the gate, and it opened into a wide chasm of nothing.

  Richard shuddered as he stepped forward. The path he was about to walk was going to be cold, that was why he hated using the gates. He would have to time it well. Just a little power over the threshold, and he would overshoot the outpost.

  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stepped through the gate.